Mirror, Mirror
by scyllablue
Summary: AngelRiley SLASH. When Spike finds a magical mirror he reveals a world Angel never knew existed and the truth of who Riley Finn really is. Crossover with HP
1. Chapter 1

Title: Mirror, Mirror

Author: Scyllablue

Fandom: BTVS/Harry Potter crossover

Pairing: Angel/Riley

Rating: FRAO

Summary: When Spike finds a magical mirror he reveals a world Angel never knew existed and the truth of who Riley Finn really is.

Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warning: AU obviously. Some cursing, some sex, some gratuitous bending of various universes.

Author's notes: Oh my goodness, not another lame attempt at wedding HP/BTVS! Yes, folks, it is lame, but I had fun, so suck it up! When this story takes place Harry and his friends are around 21. He has fulfilled his destiny to defeat the dark wizard Voldemort and is now a teacher. Snape did not invent a means of controlling the werewolf's insanity but in fact cured lycanthropy for afflicted wizards. As this story largely focuses on the BTVS characters I will not be giving great attention to the HP universe beyond what is needed. If anyone wants to see who I picture while writing there are BTVS and HP scrapbooks up at my LiveJournal, under my penname. A good friend was happily shredding my stories when she commented on the similarity between a couple of characters and so this idea was born. Curse you, P.

ARARARAR

He found it down in the basement of the mansion, a box of junk left over from shriveled ol' great-grand daddy's time. A mirror was bloody useless for a vampire and he tossed it in the junk pile, dismissed until a few minutes later. The box had yielded nothing more interesting than a fancy silver dagger. Might earn him a few pints. Straightening up with a perfunctory balls scratch his eye caught on the squarish upside down mirror, seeing a bit of yellow sticking out of the backing. Never one to leave the unknown alone he snatched the frame up and tugged the bit of paper free.

First his eyes widened. Then he giggled, softly like a child would with a wondrous new treat. The giggle quickly grew insidious, however, as his malicious little mind seized on a brilliant thought.

ARARARAR

"The book is there on my desk. Thank you, Riley." Giles' voice followed the young man into his office. The girls had all stared open mouthed at each other when the Englishman asked Riley to venture into his inner sanctum, but honestly, what did they expect? He was living here; did they think Giles kept him locked in his room until they came over?

Though perhaps that wouldn't be such a horrible fate compared to having to suffer through these nightly "research" meetings. Willow and Tara were diligent, but Xander mostly just stuffed his face with free food while Buffy seemed more interested in flirting until it was time to kill something, an attitude she disturbingly shared with Spike. Who flirted with Xander, not him, thankfully. Riley was pretty sure he'd have a brain aneurism if that scrawny little shit ever made googlie eyes at him. Though it would relieve the tedium of thumbing through archaic texts while fending off Buffy's amazingly dexterous fingers.

The book was where Giles said, sitting innocently beneath a stack of Alchemy scrolls. Turning back to the door Riley jumped, startled to see a familiar face. "Hostile 17," he hissed, recognizing the trademark black trench coat and chipped black nail polish, "what are you doing?"

Spike quickly tucked the mirror he'd thrust in Riley's face behind his back, gracefully sweeping an arm to invite Riley to pass. "Sorry, luv, thought you'd want a hand wiping off that smudge of brown."

"Bi- Fuck off, Spike." Riley purposively shoved the vampire on his way past. Why had he supported not dusting the annoying little Englishman?

"Oooh, the Boy Scout used a naughty word," Xander laughed behind Spike's back, watching the taller blond disappear back into the living room. Before the vampire could stop him the young man plucked the mirror from his grasp. "What's this?"

"Don't!" Too late, Xander stared at himself in the silvered mirror, expression bemused. His lover quickly it snatched back, careful not to look himself. Shoving the mirror into an inside coat pocket he frantically searched the boy's eyes for any telling signs of bewitchment.

"Spike?" Xander nervously tried to lean away, but the blond grabbed his face, bringing them nose to nose.

"Feeling any different, pet? Any sudden cravings for cornfed US grade?"

Jerking away Xander scowled. "What are you on? What was that mirror?"

Spike stared at him for another long minute before he suddenly smiled, his relief near palpable. "Nothing, pet. Don't worry your pretty head over it."

Still suspicious but not wanting to fight over it Xander pecked his love on the tip of his pert nose. "Well, behave, awright? Riley is trying to get along and Buffy is just waiting for an excuse to try and stake you."

Spike hummed and nodded, but Xander's words went largely ignored. He was so going to enjoy this spot of revenge.

ARARARAR

Three days later Angel carried the post into the main research area where Wesley was happily cross referencing. "Wes, did you ask for a book from Giles?" The box looked book shaped and the return address was the older Watcher's, but the labels had been typed.

The young Englishman barely glanced up from his reading. "No, but maybe he thought it was something we'd need. Go ahead and open it?"

"Sure." The vampire easily ripped open the cardboard, eyebrow raising to discover a mirror. An old, silver tarnished mirror. Rubbing his thumb down the side Angel's eyes flashed yellow as the surface suddenly rippled, a vaguely familiar face briefly staring back at him.

When the silence stretched on too long Wesley finally looked up, adjusting his glasses as he stared at the frozen man standing a few feet away. Angel seemed quite intent on the object in his hands, but it was the feverish glint to his eyes that yanked the young ex-Watcher to his feet. "Angel?"

The large vampire did not respond. Reaching his side Wesley tried to take hold of the dark framed object, but the best he could manage was tilting it so he could see just what had his friend enraptured. "How odd," he murmured.

To say Giles was surprised to open his door to Angel and his young comrade Wesley was certainly an understatement; both usually practiced the courtesy of phoning before descending on their hellish hamlet. Wesley's mumbled vaguely worded response to his raised eyebrow mollified him somewhat: they were here on the trail of a vision. Letting them enter he didn't think much of Wesley's question as to who was presently in residence. Angel and Buffy were still barely speaking to one another, which might present a further complication to the swift completion of their mission and summary exodus.

"Young mister Riley Finn is currently renting a room, otherwise the others are at work or campus." Giles frowned at the look his visitors exchanged. Angel had yet to say a word aloud but his expression spoke volumes. Unfortunately, Giles did not know the language. "I assume you came to me for help and not out of a sense of courtesy that did not extend to a phone call?"

Wesley jerked his gaze from Angel's, nodding sloppily. "Yes, yes, of course. My apologies. We are, um, that is, Cordelia was not specific, but the threat was, ah, large, tentacles?" He glanced briefly at Angel, but the large vampire was sniffing the air. "Blue?"

No wonder they had driven down; Giles would have hung up on them on the phone. "Blue and tentacles? Did she perhaps see the victim?"

"Hmmm, yes? Why don't we start with some of the volumes you have that I do not? It was very dark in Cordelia's vision," Wesley lamely defended.

"Imagine that," Giles muttered, but he gamely led the younger ex-Watcher into his library. He wasn't surprised when Angel did not follow, familiar with the vampire's disinclination for research.

ARARARAR

When Giles had allowed him to move into his house after learning the young man was recklessly camping out on the demolished school grounds Riley had been grateful. By nature he was a neat person and he did not mind Giles' occasional moodiness, affording them to cohabitate easily. His childhood and chosen career had taught him to live with all manner of difficult people. Giles had even permitted him to install some simple exercise equipment in his attic room. He used the training room in the basement every day, alone and sparring with Buffy, but he liked the privacy of his room. Just a simple pull-up bar but the methodical exercise was calming, letting his mind drift. With the added foot restraints he could even pretend to be Luke Skywalker, though he usually did a quick rep of curls before the blood rush gave him a headache.

Arms folded over his chest he was doing just that when he heard the front door bell ring. Relaxing back down he brushed his fingers across the wooden floor, listening to hear if anything was amiss. The Initiative wasn't supposed to know where he was, but they'd worked out a warning system if needed and the blond's eyes flickered to the innocuous, palm sized river stone on his nightstand. A soft word from Giles and the stone would start glowing a bright red.

It was still grey. He could hear the muffled sound of voices, but no yelling. People did come around to visit Giles; for magical consultation or just to chat. No one regular visited; Riley had learned that after overhearing a grey haired old lady talking about dragon bile for arthritic joints. What was worse was when they came for dinner or lunch and Riley had to sit there, acting politely quiet and ignorant of what they were talking about unless they were civil enough to discuss non-magical stuff. Not that Riley was inclined to talk after he'd realized many of Giles' guests thought the young man was his lover and the Englishman did nothing to disabuse them of the notion. Part of his cover Riley assured himself, but couldn't help the permanent blush and soft stammer whenever any of Giles' dinner guests tried to teasingly draw him into conversation with sexual innuendo.

Riley went back to his curls.

There was no warning creaking of the door or floorboards before a heavily muscled arm clamped across his chest just as he was coming back down, pinning his arms. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, twisting wildly. His military cut hair was too short to get a good handhold, but his attacker wasn't deterred, brutally strong hand closing around his jaw and wrenching his head around to seize his mouth. He was being kissed, by a guy, and he didn't know if that was worse than the voice in his head that traitorously sounded like himself remarking at how good the guy was at it.

ARARARAR

Downstairs Giles froze at hearing the muffled shout from above before turning his incensed gaze onto his companion. Wesley tried to affect an attitude of confused innocence, but Giles was not fooled. Before the other could attack Giles froze him in place with a snarled spell. "If Angel has harmed that boy I am holding you both responsible," he warned before running from the room.

Riley was jerking his legs, trying to get the safety catches to release, but the manufacturer had obviously never considered this scenario. His mouth was sealed by firm lips, distorting the words he tried to shout. The arm around his chest tightened, his attacker taking an easy step back to draw Riley's legs straight and cut his leverage. The foot restraints creaked in protest, a sentiment his ankles echoed. His feet were starting to go numb, blood circulation cut off by the hard leather clamps never meant to bend to such an angle.

He couldn't see the man holding him, adding to his fear. His attacker was nuzzling his neck and he could feel the bony ridges that screamed 'vampire!' Terror squeezed Riley's throat, choking his voice. How had it gotten into the house and past Giles? The vampire was growling, but wasn't biting, holding the young man just tight enough to restrain his struggles. "f-fahh!" Riley squeaked, mortified to feel a hand grope his crotch, gently squeezing and weighing through the cotton of his sweat pants.

"Stop!" he yowled, bucking and twisting as much as he could, which proved no deterrent at all. Fingers trailed up under his t-shirt and then back down, slipping under the waistband of his sweats. Head forced to the side by the face rubbing against his vulnerable throat he couldn't see the hand make its journey but he felt it, cool and manly large close around his semi-hard penis. Riley whimpered, closing his eyes when he heard the growling change pitch. He needed to escape, consequences be damned. "Fi-"

"Angel! Get away from him now!" Giles' voice had never sounded so welcome, but then the name he called penetrated Riley's relief.

"A-Angel?" As in Buffy's idolized undead ex with a soul?

"I will not warn you again, Angel," Giles snapped. "I have a crossbow aimed at your back and I will shoot you."

"Then you also mean to kill the boy?" The vampire finally lifted his head and ceased his rumbling growl. "To spare your life you'll need to make a kill shot and we are heart to heart." Giles cursed softly, eliciting Angel's dark laughter. "Come around where we both can see you."

Giles' aim did not waver as he slowly circled the two men. His blue eyes briefly met Riley's, but the young blond could not keep his gaze, not with Angel's hand rhythmically massaging his cock as the older man could now clearly see. Riley didn't think he'd ever stop blushing.

"Would you?" Angel jerked his chin to Riley's feet.

After a tense minute the older man nodded. While Riley's ankles were screaming he also didn't like the idea of the vampire getting full liberty to his person. Slowly Giles reached for the snap buckles, his other hand holding the crossbow steady. "What is going on, Angel?"

Riley groaned as blood rushed back into his feet, the tingling rush of pain briefly whiting out his senses. Oh man, he was never doing that again. A deep voice was shushing him, sounding very like the earlier growling through the pounding of his blood. It wasn't until the pain in his feet dropped into a dull throb did he realize the vampire was stroking his cheek while talking to Giles. What was worse was he was allowing it.

Angrily jerking away Riley again tried to free himself, but Angel's arm across his chest barely twitched. "Let go of me already!" They were of the same height, probably within a pound of each other and Riley was completely helpless pitted against the vampire's inhuman strength.

"I can't do that," the vampire calmly answered. "Did you permanently injure Wesley?"

"No," Giles sighed, slowly lowering the crossbow. "Something has happened, I take it?"

Angel nodded, absently petting the fuming mortal in his grasp. "Why don't we all go downstairs? Riley needs an icepack for his ankles."

"Riley needs to be put down and given some space," the blond grumbled.

"Riley, I would like to examine your," Giles tiredly began, at the same time that Angel decided to become agreeable and happily said, "Okay," and stepped back.

"Fuck!" Riley yelped, crumpling to the ground as his ankles gave way. Okay, he had not realized Angel had been holding his weight. Ow, ow, ow. No big bad tough guy here, that fucking hurt!

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

Mirror, Mirror: Chapter 2.

Disclaimer: Still do not own. La sigh.

With a painful gasp Wesley returned to the reality of Giles' house. He staggered a little on stiff legs and fetched up against the couch. Rubbing his forehead he did not at first process what he was seeing, Angel wrestling with a young man. From having been on the receiving end of one of his ill tempers the young ex-Watcher could tell his employer was being relatively gentle with the youth but equally firm. He also did not miss the prominent bulging against the tight leather of Angel's pants. The vampire was enjoying the boy's struggle.

Wesley surreptitiously studied what he could of the young man. The face was particularly attractive, high cheekbones swooping down to a squarely rounded chin; a heart shaped face that was strengthened by the straight Irish nose and lent sensuality to the long mouth that was currently thinned in anger. The dark golden hair complimented the tanned, athletic physique. He looked like all those boys Wesley had envied in school who made being perfect seem effortless. With a disgruntled huff the Englishman straightened from the couch.

It took a chokehold to get the young man sitting on Angel's lap, snarling and cursing between gasps for air. The boy was obviously well trained in hand to hand, but Angel ignored most of his attacks unless they came at his face and then he simply batted the boy's hands away. Angel merely waited the boy out, purring reassurance and petting his stomach until the youth gave up the fight from exhaustion. The dark blond head fell to the side over the muscled cage of Angel's arm and Wesley at last saw the full sculpture of his lips, flushed and ripened with blood. Quite the pretty catch and the Englishman smirked at catching the youth's blush when Angel arranged his limp weight to sit firmly over the vampire's ardent erection.

"Mister Giles, sir, please," The boy whined when the older man returned to the room, carrying a folding of dark blue and a gently steaming teacup. Wesley felt brief empathy for the young man; Rupert Giles had an amazing ability to ignore any number of pink elephants lounging about when needed to accomplish a task, however unpleasant.

"Mister Finn, I believe since Angel has done nothing to actually permanently hurt you, you could practice a little tolerance while we try to resolve this quandary with as little fuss as possible. You are a fully trained, ah, adult, and I expect you to remember that." Wesley recognized that tone of voice: Giles was annoyed. Sitting on the edge of the coffee table facing the couch he set his burden to the side and patted his knee. "Now, I've brought the ice wraps up from the training room, so give me your foot."

The young man's ankles were discolored and slightly swollen, but the blond looked more pained at having to shift his weight deeper into Angel's lap than anything. For his part Angel's eyes were completely glazed over in bliss; Wesley wondered if he even knew Giles had returned to the room. The arm around Finn's neck had relaxed to hug his shoulders, his other hand still rubbing the youth's toned belly.

Wraps snug about each ankle Giles gently set the youth's foot aside after giving it a consoling pat. "No real harm done, Riley. Just try to stay off them for the rest of the night." The teacup was retrieved and pressed to the boy's hand. "Drink it all down and no childish whining." Wesley had no idea why the American soldier would whine over a spot of tea but with a grimace the blond awkwardly did as told. "Now, let's see about clearing up this mess." Standing, Giles looked in Wesley's direction for the first time. "Wesley, do you have an explanation for Angel's behavior?"

"I hope so. My apologies about earlier, Mr. Giles. I thought it safest if Angel was able to seek out his desire without any well meaning interference." As he spoke Wesley retrieved the simple black backpack he'd come with, pulling out the cardboard box and its nefarious contents. "We received this in the post the other day. I thought it was possibly one of the books we have discussed on occasion. It's a mirror; I have taken the precaution of covering its surface."

Giles looked over the box, frowning at the return address before carefully sliding out its contents. Setting the box aside while he crossed to his desk the ex-Watcher expertly examined the artifact. "Obviously I have not seen this before. I take it Angel opened the box?"

"Yes, and beheld Mr. Finn's face, I believe." Wesley followed in Giles' wake, both men choosing to ignore the blond's whimpers as Angel's hands crept south. "He has been in an altered state of consciousness ever since, determined to make his way here."

"To his heart's desire," Giles finished. "But we should still ascertain that it was indeed Riley he saw. We cannot assume the specificity of the spell."

"True," Wesley conceded, "but he hardly seems inclined to conversation at the moment."

"No touching!" Riley yelped from the couch.

"I know of a similar mirror located in the British Isles," Giles continued on, turning to his bookshelves. "It showed one's heart desire. The risk was that the person gazing into the mirror would become ensnared and waste away."

"Hmmm. This mirror made whomever Angel saw his heart's desire, obsessively so." Wesley accepted the book Giles handed him, automatically beginning to search even as his train of thought continued on. "I suppose we should be thankful the mirror did not contain an image of a rabbit or some random pedestrian."

"Indeed. Upstairs he was completely coherent and in control of his facilities. He acted almost predatory, more the vampiric hunter than he normally portrays. Simple physical contact is obviously not sufficient to loosen the mirror's hold." Taking down a second book Giles glanced back at the couch. With his heels planted on the edge of the couch and his cheeks stained a dark red the youth was vainly trying to resist the hand moving determinedly beneath his sweats. "I believe Riley needs to supply some answers."

Blood was trickling down Riley's chin from his bitten lip. Giles' thumb wiped away the smear as he cupped the youth's jaw. "Riley, did Angel kiss you earlier?"

"He's . . . touching . . . Meee!" The blond gritted out, eyes narrowed to angry slits.

"I believe if you kiss him he will become more receptive to your wishes."

Riley stared hard at the older man, openly suspicious, but finally nodded. Giles dropped his hand and stepped back to stand alongside Wesley, both expectantly waiting. It took him a moment to gather his courage, but then Riley reached back, catching Angel by his nape. It took some twisting but he managed to brush their lips together.

It was a fleeting contact but Riley's lips were painted with his blood, a heady lure for any vampire. Angel's eyes flared golden and Riley gasped at how quickly he was flipped around and fully engaged. The blond's fingers reached back to grip at Angel's wrist but he did not fight the hand cupping his head. The watching Englishmen could not see where his other hand went, could not truly see the kiss itself, but they heard every wet moan and saliva thick whimper. Wesley started to edge to the side to catch a better angle, but Giles' hand stopped him.

Angel was watching them both with hostile interest.

"How is it a kiss can do what full body contact cannot?" Wesley softly asked as he wisely returned to the older man's side.

"It's not the kiss, per se," Giles answered. "It's the bodily fluid. Specifically, Riley's body fluids, his saliva. Whether that is a side effect of the mirror or his vampiric nature is debatable."

"Thank you for working that out," Angel said. Gently he let a dazed Riley sprawl out across the couch cushions, arranging his legs to curl across the vampire's lap. Chest heaving and his erection still obvious Riley put his hands over his face. "The first time I kissed him was instinct, but after a few minutes I felt myself sinking back."

"Sinking back into what?" Giles asked.

"I cannot begin to describe," Angel shook his head, "except maybe as a blood gorge. A satiation that is absolutely complete when I have Riley in my arms. All of my senses are muted but to the feel of him and that is all I want to do. Gorge myself."

"And now?"

Angel looked down at the knee he was kneading. "I want him happy. It makes me happy to want him happy. Being together will make us both happy. I have never felt like this, this happy. I know this is a spell, but I don't care. Riley and I are meant to be together."

Riley made a strangled, dying sound behind his hands.

"Well," Giles took off his glasses, cloth appearing in his hand, "at least that was honest. We still need to ascertain the exact properties of the mirror, but we believe that it makes whatever the viewer sees their heart desire. Thankfully, it does not seem to be interfering with your curse?" Angel shook his head. "Good then. Riley, have you recently come across any antique mirrors or seen anyone suspicious lurking in your vicinity?"

"You think he might not have known his reflection was captured?" Wesley raised an eyebrow.

"Wait." Riley's hands slowly lowered, curling into fists. "Spike shoved a mirror in my face the other day. I didn't really get a chance to look at it before he hid it. I thought he was just jerking my chain like usual."

"This is something Spike would do," Angel growled. The violence in his expression promised eminent retaliation against his devious childe.

"How could he have gotten an artifact like this?" Wesley asked.

"That will be one of the questions we'll put to him when he comes tonight for patrol," Giles answered. "Hopefully he will know how to reverse the spell. Regardless, I must contact an old acquaintance about seeing to the safe disposal of the mirror." He spared a glance towards the still blushing soldier. "Riley, you are handling this remarkably well. If you wish to remain in your room while I explain things to the others when they arrive I think everyone will understand."

"Thanks," Riley mumbled, slowly struggling off the couch and out of Angel's grasp. "Need to use the bathroom." Not looking at anyone the young man quickly left the room.

There was one of those large pink elephants again and her name was Buffy. Wesley watched his employer and Giles have a silent exchange, no doubt about a certain volatile Slayer. Buffy was not going to take this well at all. Finally Angel nodded, the two men having reached some agreement, and slowly stood. "My word, Giles, I will not hurt the boy. I am not pleased with the thought of Buffy coming near him so I would warn you now to keep her on a tight leash."

"Just try to remember, none of your feelings are real," Giles cautioned.

Angel stared at him, obviously struggling with the truth of his words. Golden brown eyes gave nothing away as he followed after his compelled love.

ARARARAR

Riley turned on the shower but didn't undress but to pull down his sweats. His wood didn't care who'd brought it about and wasn't inclined to go away. Wetting his hand the blond braced himself over the toilet and tried to conjure up some favorite, guaranteed fantasies. He didn't think about the fact that none of them included his girlfriend. Ever since the concoction Dr. Walsh had fed him making him stronger had worn off Buffy had been efficiently emasculating him. She didn't want to train with him, didn't want him on patrol and even more humiliating, only allowed certain sex positions. Because he was normal. Weak and human. Not surprisingly, their sex life had practically disappeared, though he blamed it on living with Giles and Willow and Tara living with her.

Okay, these thoughts were not helping. His dick should have been familiar with his hand and gotten into things, but Riley Jr wasn't responding. Traitor. Buffy jacked him sometimes, to get him hard enough to fuck. Her grip was usually almost painfully tight and he was pretty sure he got it up out of a sense of self preservation. No way would he tell her she had the technique of a harpy. Not and risk a 'weak' comment.

Angel's touch had been confident and gentle, manipulating Riley's body in a way only another man could. That was all, just a two hundred year old guy showing his expertise. His hand had been cool and oddly calloused; the memory of that large hand closing around him made his dick jerk and he groaned. Great, Riley Jr. was sexually confused. This was so Buffy and her butch dominatrix routine's fault.

This spell between them must have made him deaf to the vampire because Riley's first suspicion that he was no longer alone in the bathroom was when a hand gripped his shoulder. Riley gasped in heart stopping surprise and his brain shut off in mortified panic, which explained his temporary blindness and what he could only describe as an out of body experience. When he opened his eyes it was to see himself, sitting on the open toilet with his legs obscenely spread. One was draped over the kneeling Angel's shoulder, toes curling as he dug his heel into the silk draped back. His hands were clenched tight in the normally perfect dark waves. Angel's head was in his lap, large pale hands on his tanned thighs. Mouth wide over Riley's dick as he bobbed and sucked.

The realization that he was getting sucked off snapped Riley back into reality. It was all suddenly an overwhelming swirl of sensation, of, oh, wet, electrifyingly cool suction and his penis had not been this happy in a very long time. Riley keened softly, spine arching as he tried to instinctively go deeper. Amazingly, Angel let him and a little shocked voice whispered something about said vampire being dead and not needing to breathe so there you had it, an absolutely fucking brilliant cocksucker. But Riley didn't really listen to that voice. Just as he ignored the one gibbering that it was a guy sucking him off. Angel. Fantasy and nightmare rolled into one.

No, Riley was like any healthy young male when getting a blowjob: he mindlessly enjoyed it. From the triumphant smirk sparkling in Angel's eyes the vampire was well aware of this universal weakness. His hand slid down the inside of Riley's taut thigh and down to cup tawny furred balls, gently squeezing. Riley's breath shuddered out of him. He was down Angel's throat and a thick finger was nudging his pucker. Oh God, oh God, this was nothing like a doctor's office and the blond gave a short bark of laughter at the bizarre thought.

"Nnnn." Riley squirmed as much as he could feeling that finger slide deep inside. The doctor used a glove and lubricant that left an uncomfortable slimy feeling; Angel's dry impalement burned in a delicious way that made him hyper aware of the nerves stretching between his ass and his cock. With each shuddery breath he could feel himself coming closer to the edge. Gaze cast to the water marked ceiling he didn't see the hungry, lustful possession glowing in the yellow tinted eyes watching his every twitch and spasm.

Then Angel's finger scraped painfully hard against something inside and Riley's sense of reality again fell away. Orgasm swept through him in a powerful rush, pouring everything he was down the vampire's greedily swallowing throat. Jaw clenched to contain his screams the blond's entire body seized for a few brief agonizingly exquisite seconds. Whiteness swept his senses, red tinting the edges. Then he melted.

When he finally became aware of having bones and flesh it was to blush at finding himself curled up in Angel's lap, head nestled on the vampire's broad shoulder. His sweats were still around his ankles which made it his bare bottom sitting on another man's leg. Angel was massaging his nape, which was relatively innocent thinking what he could have done to Riley while he'd been out of it. Maybe, ah, he couldn't even think it! If kissing him got Angel back into his head maybe doing what he did got the spell to really back off. And this was a spell, the humiliated blond reminded himself.

Groaning in embarrassment Riley tried to climb out of the vampire's lap and get his dignity back on using the nearby toilet for support, but his legs weren't cooperating. Damn rubber and his ankles were frozen numb from the ice packs. "Let me help," Angel murmured, somehow getting Riley decent and on his feet with a modicum of struggle.

"Ah," Riley blanked. Politeness his mother had beat into him with the back of a wooden spoon urged him to acknowledge the assistance, but it was Angel's fault to begin with. The vampire had him securely about the waist, tucked into his side and seemingly unaffected by what had just gone on. In Rupert Giles' bathroom. Could he die of embarrassment, truly?

Fingers lifted his chin. "My promise to you, Riley, I will only ask of you what I need to keep my sanity until this spell is broken."

Riley nodded and slowly eased away, aiming himself for the door. Though it was barely into evening he was tired. Giles had said he could hide upstairs while he explained the situation to the Scoobies. Maybe he'd just take a nap. Forget this whole day ever happened. "That'll be tonight, right? Spike," the blond's words ended with a jaw popping yawn. He blinked, but the bathroom was still blurring around him, growing darker.

ARAR

"If this is Spike's doing - Riley!" The vampire thanked his preternatural speed, catching the crumpling figure before the blond could end his fall with the cold tile floor. The boy's pale face was flushed with fever, eyes rolled to the back of his head. Firming his hold Angel kicked open the door. "Giles!"

When the ex-Watcher appeared at the top of the stairs the man's expression went frigid. "Does this spell make your word mean nothing, then?"

"I did nothing to hurt him. I don't think I can." Giles' glare clearly implied he explain himself post haste but Angel was briefly distracted by a barely audible moan into his shoulder. Riley gave no further signs of waking, however, though Angel darted his gaze between his wan face and Giles' thunderous one. "He shouldn't be hurt. He just passed out."

Giles gestured for him to head for Riley's room. "What were you doing in the bathroom with him?"

Angel would have been less embarrassed to confess to a priest. The narrow stairs leading up into the attic appeared a Godsend, letting him dither in answering. Once he had Riley stretched out on his military neat bed he answered, though he kept his eyes on the boy and occupied his hands with smoothing his spiky hair. "I helped him relieve some of the stress I had caused earlier."

Circling the bed Giles shooed him back, checking Riley's pulse at his wrist and feeling his forehead. "Considering your current needs I am going to assume nothing went to waste?"

Angel flushed and jerkily nodded his head. "It was a one-sided exchange."

"We need to discover the full properties of this mirror," Giles said softly. From the chest sitting at the foot of the bed he pulled out an old afghan and left it to Angel to cover the young man. "Perhaps it was foolish of us to expect nothing would happen to the target."

The sound of the front door opening came faintly and Angel stiffened to hear Buffy's voice. Giles sighed. "Stay here with him. I will explain things and get them started with researching. Spike and Xander are not due for another hour." At Angel's inquisitively raised eyebrow he elaborated. "They tend to time their arrival to the delivery of the pizza."

Angel wanted to smile, but he still hurt too much that his childe would do this to him. As Giles hurried downstairs the vampire gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the young man who now consumed his heart. Logically, he knew this was a spell, a forced compulsion driving him to possess Riley as his. He knew nothing of the young soldier! Yesterday he could honestly say he'd disliked the boy on principle for dating the woman he had thought of as his true love. Yet she meant nothing now, a mere possible hindrance to his and Riley's happiness. His head knew this was a spell, but his heart? Soul and demon, for the first time since his cursing, were according a truce to achieve one thing. Riley.

If he desired he could have clearly heard the words being hurled downstairs. Absently he catalogued those voices he recognized: Buffy, Giles, Wesley, Willow, and a third female's that came sporadically. Their voices meant nothing, however, before the worry he felt for his love. What if Riley was dying? Was Angel somehow sucking the very life energy from him? Was that the cruel joke of the mirror, to make you kill the very person it cursed you to love? If that were so then he would walk into the sunrise, he would stake himself this very moment and spare his beloved any further pain.

"Angel, get away from that chair!"

The voice of his former lover startled the vampire into dropping the chair he'd mindlessly been prepared to snap the leg off of. It would have made a good stake. Its clatter to the hard wood floor did nothing to disturb Riley. Standing just inside the bedroom the petite blond Slayer cautiously watched him, green eyes too aware of what he'd been prepared to do.

"Buffy." That sounded normal, right?

"Giles told us about the mirror," Buffy said after a painful minute. "Willow and Tara are doing their research thing with Wesley but Giles locked himself in his bedroom to call someone. I wanted to see how you were dealing." Obviously not well and the silence became acutely uncomfortable. "Staking yourself isn't going to help anything."

"It will if I'm cause for his passing out."

"And if you dying hurts him worse?" Buffy shot back. "I'd like to not lose both of you to some stupid prank of Spike's."

That stumped him for a moment and he knew he was in a bad way if Buffy Summers, bless the girl, was thinking more logically than he was. Then she made to step further into the room and Angel forgot about everything except keeping what was his. Without thinking he growled, a warning and threat for the Slayer to keep her distance. Buffy froze, eyes narrowing as her own instincts to answer his challenge flared.

"I don't want to hurt you, Buffy," Angel rumbled, putting himself between the threat and his feverish love. "I'm not in control of this right now so just keep your distance. Please."

Buffy stared at him for a long moment, obviously calculating her chances of getting any farther with him before she slowly nodded. "Riley is a good man, Angel. I don't want to see him hurt by any of this. And remember, stake yourself now and you'll miss ass beating Spike later."

She made a very good point, but Giles appearing in the doorway rendered it moot. The ex-Watcher briskly shoved his charge to one side and advanced on the bed. The Slayer was unpleasantly surprised that Angel did nothing to halt the man's progress all the way to her boyfriend's side. Putting the back of his hand to Riley's feverish brow the older man frowned.

"He's getting worse. Angel, we need to travel somewhere to get our answers. Get him ready. He needs to be dressed for damp weather."

"I'll help," Buffy started to offer, but twin glares stuttered her words. "So where are you going?"

Giles strode over to an old armoire tucked into one shadowed corner and began to yank out the necessary clothing, obviously unwilling to wait. "Wesley will stay behind to question Spike though I have been promised he will receive competent assistance. The rest of you are coming with." Jeans, socks, t-shirt and sweater; Giles thrust them at Angel. "His boots are under his bed. Buffy, go change into the warmest clothes you have."

"They're kinda, well, definitely last season, Giles," she pointed out, rolling her eyes at the idiocy of men.

"Now, Buffy, or you stay behind," Giles barked and the girl rushed out of the room to obey. "Thirty minutes, my study," the Englishman said before closing the door, leaving a slightly bemused vampire to dress the unconscious soldier.

Willow and Tara were anxiously waiting when Angel walked into Giles' study, kept busy by re-shelving books. They both stared aghast at seeing the large vampire carrying the feverish Riley, but neither approached. Perhaps they were more inclined to heed Giles' warnings about Angel's volatile temper. The ex-Watcher gestured for Angel to join him and Wesley at his desk.

"I was just explaining to Wesley as to how to contact us when he learns anything from Spike," Giles said by way of greeting.

Wesley nodded, glancing briefly to the face tucked into Angel's shoulder before meeting his employer's dark eyes. "I do not like the idea of sending you alone, but someone must stay."

"Just don't kill him," Angel growled as Buffy pranced into the room. "I don't want Spike getting off that easy."

"I have an excellent paddle you may make use of when we return," Giles offered with malicious generosity. "Girls, gather around. Buffy, this side." Wesley stepped back while Giles tugged the Slayer to stand on his side opposite of Angel, the two witches filling the space between. From the pocket of his coat he pulled out a green and grey stripped scarf. "Everyone take hold. Angel, you're holding Riley so," and with his free hand he gripped the blond's shoulder. "Everyone good? No matter what, don't let go. Chudley Cannons."

The last two words activated the spell, whisking them away. Standing a safe distance apart Wesley disinterestedly blinked, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket. When the last wisp of magic faded he scratched his ear and wandered from the room. Hopefully the pizza delivery would be soon; he was bloody famished.

TBC.


	3. Chapter 3

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 3.

Arriving at their destination Giles nimbly hopped onto solid ground, Angel's preternatural grace helping him keep his feet despite the added dead weight in his arms. Willow and Tara, holding onto each other tightly, only stumbled about a bit before setting each other to rights. Buffy, unfortunately, had no such luck, and landed face first on the cold flagstones after flailing over her own last season boots. The small group of people waiting just beyond the gates of surely the largest castle ever constructed were used to such and made no comment as they stepped out to greet them.

"Alright there, then?" Buffy heard as she levered herself up onto first her knees and then her elbows. Felt like she'd fallen ten stories instead of five feet and she blinked stupidly at the scuffed black shoes partially obscured by worn jeans before she had the thought to look up. 'Wow', her brain supplied after a long pause. A few years older than her and were his green eyes glowing? Not even the faint scar she could just made out on his forehead detracted from how hot this guy was.

"Um," she managed. He was wearing a black nightgown sort of thing that fell to mid calf. Sort of like a graduation gown, but made of far more expensive material than the polyester hers had come in. His jean clad legs were poking out of the bottom and she suddenly connected his accent with the getup. Didn't all British academics where the black robes? Had Giles brought them to a school?

"Here, let me help." A hand in her armpit and Buffy drunkenly clambered to her feet.

Thankfully she shook off her disorientation quickly and smoothly thrust out her hand. "Thanks. I'm Buffy Summers."

Major Hottie clasped her hand like a professional, firm, short and non clammy. "Harry Potter. Don't worry about your landing. A Trans-Atlantic portkey would knock anyone for a loop."

Okay, not a lot of that made much sense, but before Buffy could say anything back a woman's authoritative voice drew her attention to the others that had been waiting for them. "I am Headmistress McGonagall and I welcome you to Hogwarts, School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. For however long you are here you will abide by the rules of the school, which includes no unsupervised wandering. I understand from Mister Giles that you are a special group of Muggles, but this is still most unorthodox, letting you into our school. Access will be restricted; you will at all times be with one of my staff. Any challenge to this will be met with most harshly."

Harry moved back towards his own black robed group as the old woman spoke and Buffy did the same, instinctively seeking Giles' closeness. McGonagall had the most gravity defying hat Buffy had ever seen perched on her wrinkled head, making her look every inch the witch she claimed to be. Who had ever heard of a school for witches?

"To my left is Professor Snape," McGonagall gestured to the pale, thin man glaring at them all, "our Potions Master. Beside him is Professor Potter, Master of Dark Arts." That hottie was an evil wizard? No way, Buffy shook her head. Evil wizards should look like Ethan Rayne, all shriveled up and one cigarette away from lung cancer. Where was the justice in the world? There was a skinny redhead next to him that McGonagall named Professor Weasley, of math of all things. "One of us shall be with you at all times. Now come along, Madame Pomfrey is waiting for us."

She did not ask for any of their names, but maybe she already knew them, being a witch and all. Before turning away to head back up to the castle she glared long and hard at an oblivious Riley. The look she spared Angel was two hundred degrees colder and Buffy decided she really didn't like the woman one bit.

ARARARAR

Madame Pomfrey was the doctor of the school and she clucked her tongue at seeing Riley. A stick of wood came out of her pocket and garbled Latin came out of her mouth. Tendrils of florescent light spewed from the tip of what Angel realized must be a wand, enveloping Riley before Angel could jerk him away. "Do stop that, young man!" She snapped. "Put him there on the bed and step away so I can finish my diagnostic!"

"He's my mate," Angel growled, unwilling to set Riley down anywhere in this madhouse. The old witch who had preceded him into the infirmary made a choking sound from where she stood off to the side, but Angel didn't flinch from her hateful glare. He didn't know how these wizards operated or what they could sense. She probably knew him for a vampire and that was a hate he was long used to.

"It's the spell I told you about, Headmistress," Giles said as he came into the room with the dour wizard at his heels. The younger wizards had been left to entertain the girls, who all seemed keen to that idea. "It's bound them together in some manner. Angel, Madame Pomfrey is a skilled healer. She'd never do anything to hurt Riley."

"Of course not," Pomfrey said in a softer tone, warmed by the blatant show of protectiveness. "You brought him here for help, so let me give it. Put him on the bed and take the chair next to it."

The woman was obviously used to dealing with all manner of stubbornness because before he'd fully realized what he'd done Angel surrendered Riley to the bed and quietly sat. By no means of a spell he'd heard uttered, but he could not dismiss the twinkle in her eye. The others gathered around while Pomfrey continued to cast spells, McGonagall's glare unrelenting. "Mister Giles, explain again how this happened and leave nothing out."

From the knapsack Wesley had earlier lent Giles drew out the damning box and its contents, handing them to the older woman as he told her everything. No flicker of recognition graced anyone's face at seeing the veiled mirror, which sank Angel's spirits somewhat. No easy fix then. When Giles concluded with circumspect mention of their activities in the bathroom McGonagall practically blew steam out of her ears.

"You raped him!" She screeched, wand appearing in her hand and leveling at the frozen vampire with far more grace of speed than he'd expected.

"Minerva, calm yourself," Snape growled. "No mentally healthy male you'd put the question to would consider being on the receiving end of a blow job rape. Lower your wand, woman!" he snapped, thrusting the mirror into her hands. "It sounds as though the mirror initiates a basic compulsion. They were used all the time on reluctant grooms who could not seem to overcome the physical drawbacks in their betrothed a century or so back. The marriage kiss would seal the spell that would not dissipate until consummation. By then no one cared if the newlyweds despised each other. I cannot believe you came all this way for what amounts to Binding Spells for Simpletons, Mister . . . Giles."

"I am well aware of the nature of marriage bonds, Professor Snape," Giles said with strained patience, "but this one is not." He gestured at Riley's sleeping figure. "Riley feels no reciprocal passion for Angel and such bonds don't usually render the one comatose."

"So you're assuming this Spike individual was possessed of sufficient skill to properly execute the spell and not bollocks it all up?" Snape sneered. "What an astounding person this Muggle must be."

"He's over a century old, so yeah, he's picked up a few things," Angel defended his childe without thinking, disliking this man immediately for the implied insult to his Will. Not that he wasn't going to flay the boy's backside when he got his hands on him, but he was the only one permitted to malign his brat.

"It is a bonding," Pomfrey spoke at last, lowering her wand. "The nature of these spells can greatly vary, but this one seems of the, oh, what was her name? The girl with that horrid complexion?"

"Claudette?" Snape guessed.

"No, that was the girl who ran afoul of that troll with the gout," McGonagall disagreed. "Are you thinking of the girl with aunts?"

Pomfrey shook her head, however, sighing in frustration. "No, the trollop who slept with those house elves."

"Ah," Giles and Snape said at the same time. "Snow White."

"Excuse me?" Were these people completely daft?

"It's a binding spell of reciprocity," Giles explained with a grimace. "A love spell of sorts that compels both parties to complete the bond lest they suffer the consequences. You kissed Riley and he kissed you back. Snow White had the spell cast on her by her step father. When she refused to go forward, she fell into a coma until another came along more to her tastes and repeated the spell."

Angel stared at Riley's mouth, at his soft lips slightly parted and paled from his fever. Just imagining that wide mouth stretched around his cock stirred his interest, but the boy was hardly in a state to return his earlier favor. How did they expect to go about this?

A pewter goblet was thrust under his nose, Pomfrey's closed expression daring him to comment. "There's a water closet just to the left of the hall. Don't scrimp."

It didn't take Angel all that long to fill the goblet; just imagining bending Riley over his infirmary bed, dragging his jeans off those bony hips and drilling his ass sent him over. He came so quickly he blushingly wondered how long these kinds of things should take, straightening his clothing with trembling fingers. It wasn't like he was actually performing, but he didn't want to appear too quick to gun, so to speak. Perhaps five minutes would be good. Yes, he'd wait another five minutes before leaving the little closet bathroom.

Before he quit the room, however, he needed to do one more thing. Biting into the side of his palm he dripped blackened blood into the cold semen, swirling them together with a finger. If he had been possessed of his normal faculties he'd never think to dousing Riley, so very afraid of the risks. Vampire's blood had binding properties all its own, after all, that would tie the blond to him long after the mirror's spell was broken. A few drops more and Riley would be what others before Angel had labeled 'thrall', 'human servant', 'pet'. Such cold words for an act of love that would keep his beloved with him forever.

Angel clenched his fist a little tighter. So much blood his semen was now a dark pink but he doubted those waiting would know to question it. If there was a voice screaming in his head not to do this he did not hear for the roaring of the spell that deafened him to all else. Riley had already shared his blood, putting him two behind the vampire.

When he rejoined the group standing about the bed Pomfrey made to take the cup from him, but Angel just growled. Giles calmed the two women, McGonagall looking murderous, but Angel could not care. Snape was smirking as Angel sat on the bed and lifted Riley up against his chest. He nuzzled the boy's sweat dampened neck, but when Riley moaned at the touch McGonagall started up her squawking again so he reluctantly backed off. Why had Giles had them come here again?

Riley's nose wrinkled when the cold lip of the goblet pressed his mouth wider. He choked and tried to jerk away at the first taste, but he'd nowhere to retreat with Angel's shoulder and arm pinning him in. His moans then were discomfited, squirming helplessly as Angel whispered soothing words and forced him to swallow every slimy, clotted drop.

A hand shot up, gripping his thick wrist, and Angel grinned because not all of Riley's discomfort was caused by the bitter, coppery seed. The boy's jeans did nothing to hide his sudden erection and only their audience kept Angel from lending assistance. As it was the boy's own hand tried to rip open his jeans, but Giles stopped him, grimacing sympathetically at Riley's choked wail. Still, better than how the boy would feel when he finally opened his pretty hazel eyes and found out he'd jacked off in front of a crowd of strangers.

"Alright then," Pomfrey said once Angel had lifted the cup away, thumb wiping off a betraying smear of whitish red before he eased back. Riley's cheeks were flushed, his arousal still prominent, but the healer said something again in Latin and leather straps came out from beneath the mattress, restraining his wrists. "Mister Finn needs quiet now and should wake up on his own in about an hour, so you all need to leave. You as well, Mister Angel," she snapped at his rebellious glower. "This is an infirmary, not a social gathering, and my patients do their best with quiet. So all of you, out. When he wakes you can come back, for a little while."

ARARARAR

When they came into the suite of rooms that had been set aside for their use near the infirmary Harry gratefully leapt to his feet. He'd been hemmed in by the three girls, all firing questions at them, and Percy, who was about ready to start hexing if that Buffy girl jostled him one more time trying to touch Harry. The two other girls had been relentless in asking about the school, the type of magic practiced, anything and everything their cute little heads could think of. Percy, who normally loved to lecture the uneducated, was obviously conflicted about spilling to a bunch of nosy Muggles, leaving it to Harry to answer as best he could. Never in his life had Harry been so excited to see Snape walk into a room and he practically leaped to hide behind the older professor.

Giles and Angel thankfully made no comment, but that might have had more to do with the death grip the older man had on the vampire. From what they'd been told the young man they'd brought in was the vampire's mate. Bit of bad luck that, falling afoul some magical mirror, but Harry drew his line of sympathy at being assaulted by a bunch of estrogen happy females.

"Snape, the young ladies here were most curious about how our magic works. Willow and Tara are apparently quite skilled themselves in Muggle magic." From behind the older wizard Harry not so subtly nudged him forward.

For a skinny rail Snape proved astonishingly difficult to manhandle, however, the Potions Master not budging an inch. "I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain the intricacies of true magic to Muggles who have demonstrated all the aptitude of their simian brethren in learning a couple of parlor tricks. Mister Giles may derive some form of amusement from their paltry antics, but I see no gain in lowering my standards to his plebian sensibilities."

Willow and Tara shrank back beneath his spiteful words, but Buffy leapt to her feet, ready to defend her friends. Even Harry, who had long grown deaf to Snape's vicious tongue started to object, but Giles stepped in first. "Severus, that's enough! Mister Potter, Angel needs sustenance. Please see to it."

The baleful hate in Snape's eyes would have petrified a normal soul, but Giles just seized his wrist in hard grip and yanked the smaller man after him as he charged out the door. Silence was left in their wake for a few brief minutes until Buffy's anger loosened her tongue.

"That evil shit is actually allowed to teach children?" Her tone implied how barmy she thought the idea was, but Harry just shrugged.

"The Ministry tried to sack him once, but all his old students objected. Snape is an institution. They couldn't bear the thought of future generations going without. He's a rite into adulthood if you survive." The young professor stared at the door as though trying to see through it. "A bit moody today, but he was trying to be nice." He swung back around to smile at the girls' shocked faces, patting his hand against his thigh. "Trust me. If he restricts himself from your parentage and ancestry back time immoral, he's holding back."

"Which he rarely does," Percy added, eeling around the various girls until he was again at Harry's side.

Harry glanced over at the vampire who'd retreated into the shadowed corner nearest the door, his attention obviously focused somewhere beyond this room. Poor bugger. Harry didn't want to imagine how he'd be in similar straits. A tentative voice pulled him back around, the redhead, Willow, leaning up from petting her girlfriend's hair.

"Professors, what's a Muggle?"

"A Muggle is a non-magical person, what you all are," Percy obviously felt that question was safe enough to answer. "Muggles aren't supposed to know about the Wizard world that exits alongside their own."

That earned a frown from the girl, her shoulders shoving back with a self-righteousness that reminded Harry of his best friend Hermione when she was preparing to defend the downtrodden. "But Tara and I are witches. We can cast spells."

Nodding agreeably, Harry settled onto the wooden bench backed up near the wall. A safe distance from Buffy and her attentions though the girl looked more inclined to sulking at the moment and glaring at the oblivious Angel for whatever reason. Percy's slender figure stole the warmth from his right side. "There are all different kinds of magic. When I talk about wizards and witches, the kind that attend Hogwarts, I mean those who have an innate magic. Muggle witches tap into magic outside of themselves, calling on various entities to lend their power to the casting. There is nothing wrong with that, but the wizards here are possessed of a magical spark all their own. You may brew a potion and bless it, in say Isis' name, but a Hogwarts witch's same potion will be far more potent because she infused it with her own magic."

"How do you know if the magic put into the spell really came from invoking Isis or unconsciously using your own magic?" Willow shrewdly asked, unwilling to abandon the possibility that she and Harry were of the same cloth. Percy snorted at the ignorance of the question, but thankfully kept his opinion to himself.

After three years of teaching, however, Harry was long used to questions such as these from his Muggle born students. "There are tests to determine the power of a wizard. Many Muggles have a small amount of magic that they use unconsciously, their 'sixth sense'. Wizard children all over the world, however, often display more obvious magic growing up, such as knocking things over or summoning a toy. Some wizard children are born to Muggle parents. Here at Hogwarts there are pureblood kids, those who descend from generations of wizards, and Muggle born."

Harry scratched his ear, wondering just how deeply he wanted to delve into a topic that was debated today among Wizard scholars. "Some think wizards are of an entirely different species from Muggles, capable of cross breeding. Others ascribe a more religious view, but no one really knows how a wizard can suddenly pop up in a Muggle line. Anyway, every wizard school in the world has a book that records all wizard births in their domain and at a designated time, the child is invited to the school. For Hogwarts, that is at eleven, which is about average." He glanced at each of the girls. "Did either of you get a letter?"

Both shook their heads, Willow looking quite inconsolable over the fact though Harry really couldn't give a damn. Maybe ordering everyone some dinner would shut them up.

ARARARAR

Dragged along in Giles' wake Severus tried to twist free, cursing and spitting until the other man abruptly spun about. Before Severus could react he was yanked forward, over the larger man's shoulder, a hard smack to his bottom felt even through the layers of clothing.

"Let me down right now, you flea infested cur!" Severus raged, fumbling for his wand.

"One more insult, Severus, and I swear I will spank you for real. And you can think again about using that wand." Another whack forced a grunt from him and he cried out his frustration when his wand tumbled away with an "Accio wand" from his captor. Giles chuckled.

ARARARAR

Of all the desired ways to wake up Riley decided this was not one of them. Head throbbing, absolutely wretched taste in his mouth, restrained and no idea where he was. Groaning softly he rolled his head on its pillow, taking in the white curtains that surrounded him, the small bedside table bare of anything to clue him in to where he was. The pungent, sweet earthy smell was vaguely familiar, but he was certain he'd never been to this place before.

The curtain at the end of the bed suddenly jerked open, startling Riley to try and scramble back towards the headboard only to be painfully jerked back down by the leather straps. The ramrod straight, austere witch stared at him down the long line of her nose like he was a most irritating gnat she was preparing to squash. Not the first face a guy liked to see waking up, but unfortunately not an unfamiliar one.

"Nana?"

TBC.


	4. Chapter 4

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 4.

Slammed against the wall Severus snarled, but Giles had his wrists pinned to the rough stone, his thighs wedged between Severus' so he couldn't castrate the man like he wanted. Bloody frustrating and his glare promised immediate retribution once he was free.

Giles smiled grimly, shaking his head. "Enough of this, Severus. You told me to leave, made sure I had no choice but to leave, so you've no right to throw a tantrum now. My word, I'll be gone as soon as Riley is well. The least you can manage is basic civility."

"Civility?" The word dripped poisonous from Severus' lips. "I cured your lycanthropy and you couldn't wait to leave! I'll be civil to your backside on its way out the door!"

"You got me sacked!" Giles shouted back, finally giving in to the anger he'd carried for years. "I tried, damn you, and you reported me to the Ministry, so don't start crying the wounded party now!"

Severus huffed. "How was I to know you'd actually go? Never could get rid of you before!"

"You idiot," Giles murmured with no little affection, releasing his wrists so he could frame the other man's angular face, force those shining black eyes to meet his own. "You may have brewed salvation, but the Ministry did not care. Once a werewolf, always a werewolf. You told me to leave, to quit your life, and I had no choice because no one but Dumbledore would hire me." He kissed that sharp nose, those hard lips. "I could not live as Remus Lupin." Kissed until Severus finally moved against him, kissed back. "Could not live in this world with you not wanting me in it."

Briefly freeing his mouth Severus ripped at the buttons of Giles' shirt, squirming against the hands burrowing beneath his robes to clutch at his buttocks. "I had not realized I'd brewed an obedience potion with that cure. I shall have to, ah!" Maybe Giles still had a little of his old werewolf strength, tearing the Potion Master's robes from his shoulders. "Do not think this in any way speaks of forgiveness," Severus panted, blushing slightly as Giles lustfully stared at the pale slim body he'd finally uncovered.

Tossing the cumbersome robes aside Giles spun Severus to face the wall. "Sev, shut up." The man didn't listen, of course, he never had, but Giles didn't mind hearing Severus scream his name.

ARARARAR

"Cygnus," his grandmother acknowledged, ignoring his wince at hearing his birth name and muttered, "It's Riley." A gesture and his restraints slithered out of sight beneath the mattress. Riley slowly sat up, putting his back against the headboard. Still didn't know where he was, but since Nana was here and not Mom then he had to be somewhere in Europe. "I have not seen you since you somehow managed to make graduation from the Salem Institute. Not that your mother would share any part of your life as she hasn't spoken to me for the last twelve years." Her tone implied that was somehow Riley's fault, which he supposed it was. Everything between his Mom and Nana was ultimately his fault.

"Mom didn't want me going to Hogwarts," Riley grumbled at his sheets. Absently he straightened them over his lap, nervously smoothing out the wrinkles. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen his grandmother in person and the one that stood out was after Mom returned his Hogwarts' letter with a copy of his acceptance to Salem. He'd heard the screaming all the way out in the barn.

"Yes, and I can see how well that decision turned out. So concerned about protecting you she neglected to raise you as a proper wizard! My only grandson, only heir to the McGonagall legacy, bound to a no account vampire! Your mother didn't even screw up this badly with your father!" Nana shouted, hands clenching into white knuckled fists about the rungs at the foot of his bed. Riley did not look up but to study her from beneath lowered lashes, watching her visible struggle to regain her composure. Over her shoulder he thought he saw movement, but no one came in and he knew better than to open his mouth. Growing up with his mother had taught him to respect the McGonagall temper. The way his head was ringing he could do without any more added hexes. He'd never been told who his father was but obviously he wasn't as vile as the undead and Riley added that to the small collection of facts he had about the man.

Nana smoothed the line of her bodice, composure restored though the color still rode high in her cheeks. "Rupert tells me you are living with him, unemployed and dating a Muggle, that Buffy girl. Honestly, Cygnus. Is this what you learned at your American school? Your mother made just as many foolish, wrong headed decisions as you seem to have and look where she is! I would ask how you could let yourself get into a situation like this but I really expected nothing better given your derelict upbringing. I tried to curtail the influence of your father's blood in your character, but your mother insisted on sabotaging all my efforts."

The words, while harshly felt, were nothing he had not heard before. Since he had first met the woman when he was six and she had found fault with his broom technique Minerva McGonagall had been a continual source of pain and frustration. Weak and deplorable were her common verdicts on his behavior; predictably mediocre on his school performance. Riley didn't know what he'd done to disappoint her but he'd known his whole life without being told that she blamed him for losing her daughter. When he was younger he'd imagined being accepted by the only family he had beyond Mom. Had done his best in school to impress the old woman who scared him with her harsh voice and judging eyes. He'd left Salem with Honors and somehow still came up lacking.

So he had gone out and found his own family in the Initiative. Not that he'd had much luck with that one either.

When Riley didn't look up Minerva blew out her breath. "I did have some hopes for you, boy, but I don't know what else I can say to you."

"Then how about shutting up?" Angel snarled as he suddenly appeared over Nana's shoulder. "I don't know about Riley, but I've listened to enough of your sanctimonious bile."

Minerva McGonagall was not a woman to be intimidated by mere words, however, and she turned to face him head on. "Mister Angel, I thought Madame Pomfrey gave implicit instruction for you to vacate the infirmary. You are no longer needed here."

"It's just Angel and that is my mate," the vampire's finger jabbed in Riley's direction, who blinked at them both stupidly, "so the only person that needs to be here is me. All the rest of you can just get out."

A dark haired guy Riley didn't recognize edged around the curtain as Angel aggressively claimed the space on Riley's left. Nana's hand was inching towards her sleeve where she likely kept her wand but her head turned slightly in the stranger's direction. God, just how many people had heard his grandmother go off on him for his behavior? "Headmistress, Angel does have a valid point. He'd not going to hurt Mr. Finn . . ."

"No," Nana's head shake was curt. "This mockery of a bonding has gone on long enough. Mister Angel shall keep a safe distance and Cygnus will remain in isolation until the enchantment is broken."

"Then we're leaving." Angel grabbed a startled Riley by the arm, meaning to haul him bodily from the bed. "Say bye-bye to grandma, sweetheart."

Sweetheart?

Nana moved to whip out her wand but Riley was actually faster. Pressing his palms together he muttered the necessary word and quickly pulled his hands apart. It was a neat trick, drawing his wand out of his hand, and one he guessed they didn't teach at Hogwarts if the locals' expressions were anything to go by. He didn't hesitate aiming at his grandmother though he kept the stranger in his sights. Everyone froze and Riley tiredly shook his head.

"Nana, please get out and take your friend with you. Mister Giles may have told you I am presently unemployed but I was a fully trained Auror, so trust me that I can handle one vampire." When she still hesitated Riley snatched up a pillow and threw it at her, transfiguring it into a honking duck mid flight. He was a McGonagall, after all. The stranger left, Nana at his heels when Riley picked up another pillow, intent plain. Once they were gone he spelled the curtains closed, tossed up a silencing charm and collapsed back onto the bed, dropping the pillow over his face. Could his life get any worse?

The bed dipped with added weight, but Riley did not react to Angel sitting next to him. The man wasn't trying to assault him so he figured the guy was still in control of his libido. He did not think about what they'd done, though he didn't remember anything after. What had happened after Angel had sucked him off in Giles' bathroom?

"Sooo," Angel awkwardly began, "you keep a wand in your hand?"

Okay, that wasn't the first question Riley expected after finding out someone was a card carrying wizard and he dragged the pillow down far enough to stare over at the vampire. Angel gave a quizzical smile back, prompting Riley to answer. "Not really, no, but it looks weird if I pull it out of my nose." That got him a chuckle and Riley relaxed back into his remaining pillows. The bed certainly had enough of them. "How much did you hear, earlier?"

"Most of it," Angel honestly answered. "I was tuned for your voice so it took me a minute to realize the harridan was talking to you." Brown eyes did not flinch from his own, openly curious and daring him to refute what'd been said. "Cygnus?"

"My mother's choice, not mine," Riley grimaced. "Not that unusual a name for a wizard, actually. Cygnus Rilius McGonagall. Finn is another family name. My mother's name is Turan and my father supposedly had an interest in astrology, so there you go."

It took Angel a moment, but he made the connection. "Turan, a love goddess represented by a black swan." He nodded, acknowledging the cleverness of his mother. "Your father's passed on?"

Riley shrugged, staring at the too white curtains and giving the only satisfactory answer he'd found after waiting over two decades for a man who never came. "My mother mourns him." He darted a quick look at the other man, but Angel's face didn't say anything. "She never talks about him. I don't know if he died or cheated on her, but she moved to America and changed her last name so it had to be bad, right?"

He hated sounding like a little boy and started to jerk upright, suddenly feeling defenseless, but Angel just calmly said, "I'm sure she had very good reasons." Riley nodded, relaxing and going back to playing with the pillow he was still clutching to his chest like a damn teddy. Another quick glance reassured him Angel wasn't laughing at him, though, so he kept kneading the soft pillow. "So how does a wizard join the, what did that scrawny redhead call us? Muggle military?"

"Who says I did?" Riley grinned. "Did you ever hear of the Marine rank of 'agent'? The American Ministry was interested in investigating the demon populations so they commissioned the Initiative. I was an Auror, wizard law enforcement. Never really met any Muggles before Sunnydale." He laughed at himself. "Didn't know they came in the Slayer variety."

Angel's smile was a little self-flagellating on its own. "Buffy Summers is a unique individual."

"Yeah, she is," Riley agreed. "Though most of the time I feel a little out of this wizard's league."

Again he waited on Angel, hands unconsciously stilling on the pillow. What an interesting color of white the ceiling was. Fingers touched his hair. "Slayers are born, did you know that?" Riley shook his head, Angel swinging in and out of view. "Becoming one isn't random chance. They all come from specific lines that the Watchers monitor. Being a Slayer requires a certain personality type and trust me, they all have it from birth."

"The emotional detachment."

"Yes. Buffy may truly believe she wants love, but she's not really wired for it, if you get my drift."

"She likes being in love, the pursuit." He'd come to this realization weeks ago and he turned those same critical eyes on the vampire sitting too close. Angel was under a spell, however, so answered Riley's unspoken questions guilelessly. "Anyone figure out what spell this is?"

Angel allowed the sudden subject change, probably not wanting to talk about his ex any more than Riley did. "Not exactly, but they think it's a marriage bond of sorts. Apparently, wizards aren't just happy with arranged marriages. They think it requires equal give and take until the final act of consummation. Everything else is still being debated." Such as the need for physical contact on Angel's part, but Riley was more occupied by what the other man had said.

Slowly the blond sat up, crossing his long legs Indian style. "Hold up. You just said **EQUAL** give and take. You sucked me off so you want to explain **EXACTLY** how I gave back?" he hissed. Angry heat rose in his cheeks, spine stiffening. "My mouth tastes like a gutter because you stuck your dick in it?! Merlin's left nut, have you completely lost your mind? Did my grandmother watch? Oh fuck, did my grandmother watch?!"

"Riley, Riley, just calm down!" Angel surged forward to grab him, but Riley held him off with his pillow, eyebrow cocked in warning. That's right, buddy, test me and eat duck that eyebrow warned. Angel settled back onto his edge of mattress. "My anatomy did not go anywhere near yours!"

"Explain," Riley snapped.

The brunette squirmed. "Okay, but bear in mind, it wasn't my idea. They all said since I'd, you know, then you needed to do the same. They said it. So I, ah, filled a cup."

Riley's eyes got wider and his face paler with practically every word uttered. He hugged his squarish teddy. This was, this was some alternate dimension, a hellish nightmare where his Nana instructed some undead guy to whack off and then feed him his spunk. Hellish. Nightmare. No way was this really happening to him. Any minute he was going to wake up to Buffy trying her hardest to crack his pelvis fucking him into the mattress.

He hid his head in his teddy.

Silence filled their small world. Then, "Riley? Look, I'm not sorry for what I did. You had collapsed at Giles' house. You were running a fever and wouldn't wake up. Between leaving you in a coma and jerking off into a cup? What would you have liked me to have done?"

What indeed? A tug on the pillow slowly pulled it away and Riley let it go. "You're right," he mumbled, scavenging for the remains of his dignity. "Sorry for freaking out like a girl."

Angel looked inordinately pleased, shifting a little closer. "Under these circumstances I think you've earned a pass on any girly behavior. So tell me, what's it like growing up as a wizard?" He tried to put on his most interested face, but Riley didn't miss that he'd put the pillow safely out of reach and his hand was creeping for his closest foot. No sooner spoken of and it looked like the blowjob was starting to wear off.

ARARARAR

The letter arrived tied to the leg of a vaguely familiar owl. Untying the missive he fed the bird a treat before sending it on its way. Quickly written and brief, he read it over several times returning to his desk. What the letter said, it was unbelievable.

'Cousin,

While there are a great many things we disagree on and I have questioned many of the choices you have made in your life, I could not in good conscience deny you what I have just learned this night. Headmistress McGonagall's young grandson Cygnus is visiting Hogwarts. He shall not be here long. He attended the Salem Institute and looks no older than Draco. In truth he looks much like his mother. He even has her changeable green eyes.'

The note was unsigned, but Lucius had no trouble recognizing his older cousin's hand. Her news was staggering, stirring a confusion of emotions he could not even begin to understand. McGonagall, that interfering harridan. Her grandson, Cygnus, the swan constellation that shared the heavens with Draco. Could it be mere coincidence?

Silk ghosted across his shoulders, falling down to drape his chest in a shimmering of pale gold. "Who is the letter from, my love?" Narcissa spoke softly into his ear, fingers stroking his temple.

Lucius caught the slender, delicate hand in his own, pressing a kiss to her slightly chill palm. "Poppy. She's sent word of Turan, our lost swan."

TBC.


	5. Chapter 5

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 5.

Wesley was munching his way through his fourth slice of veggie lovers when he heard the whoosh of a portkey in the living room. Wiping his fingers on a napkin he dabbed his lips before getting up. Xander and Spike were due any moment so his reinforcements were cutting it awfully close. He heard the low murmur of male voices before he saw them, two young men dressed in the robes of Aurors. Both tall and lean, the one that spun immediately to face him with wand pointed was distinguished by his long platinum hair and cold grey eyes. Beautiful after an aesthetic fashion, but his partner, turning more calmly, was more appealing to Wesley's tastes. Heart shaped face and riotous mop of red curls framing the warmest pair of brown eyes Wesley had seen in a long while. The redhead returned his frank assessment with a friendly smile, though he didn't move from his partner's side. Wesley did not miss the way the blond subtly maneuvered himself in front of the redhead. Lovers then and since when had the Aurors begun teaming couples together?

"Hullo," the redhead said with the sweet drawl of home. "Are you Wesley, then? Name's Ron Weasley and this friendly bloke is Draco Malfoy. We're Aurors come to collect some information on a magic mirror. Told you'd be expecting us."

"Yes," Wesley affirmed. "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Pleased to meet you. We believe a vampire named Spike awakened the mirror and used it on two of our colleagues. He cannot physically hurt humans but that doesn't keep him from mischief. We need to ascertain if it indeed was him and what exactly he did."

The blond, Malfoy, sneered, an unpleasant expression that looked comfortable on his angular features. "Interrogating a lame vampire? McGonagall felt two Aurors were needed for that? What is it you do again, Wyndham-Pryce? Nursemaid house elves? A Hogwarts first year could do this!"

"Malfoy!" Ron snapped and Wesley frowned at the annoyed frustration that flashed briefly. So maybe not lovers after all.

The ex-Watcher shrugged. "I didn't ask for you here. If you're going to stay, however, I suggest a wardrobe adjustment. Spike and his companion are Muggles." And with that said he retreated back into the kitchen.

ARARARAR

Minerva only briefly considered leaving the dispensation of the Dreamless Sleep potion to the kitchen elves, but quickly decided against it. She wanted her grandson and his inconvenient stubbornness temporarily decommissioned, not permanently harmed. For the first time in his life he was out from under his mother's, and the American Ministry's, control. Once they broke this enchantment she was certain she could convince Lupin that she deserved quality time with her only grandchild and that he would then leave, taking his Muggle children and that horrid vampire with him.

She would finally get to know her Cygnus and just as importantly, his mother would return home once she learned where her little swan had landed himself. There was nothing beyond Turan's fears keeping them from becoming a family again and her daughter would realize that when she came. Everything would work itself out she was confident of that, carefully dripping the potion over the tray of food the elves had made special for one Hogwart's guest.

ARARARAR

After everything that had gone on it was surprising to realize that here in England it was morning, but Riley could not deny how good breakfast was here at Hogwarts. Madame Pomfrey didn't seem inclined to let him out of the infirmary, but she did let him move into a more private room after Professor Potter mentioned the insufferably curious students. Especially since Angel was once again firmly attached to the blond and obviously unconcerned about anyone's sensibilities. Voluntarily holding his hand on the short trip to the secluded room had made the vampire ecstatic and Riley repeatedly reminded himself the man was victim of a spell while he ate one handed and petted the silky head buried in his lap with the other. The vampire's purring was doing terrible things to Riley's control, but Angel only pressed his face against his blanket shrouded arousal, content to let him eat.

He'd surprisingly enjoyed their earlier talk once he got over his embarrassment. Angel didn't know about the world he'd grown up in but he was highly educated and had a firm grasp of the esoteric being a Dark Creature himself. And the man knew more than he'd thought he did, since both Giles and Wyndham-Pryce were wizards, providing a vastly different wealth of research than any Muggle Watcher would have. Riley had known about Giles, of course; the man had thrown a reserved fit when he'd learned Riley was his former teacher McGonagall's grandson and his old friend Turan's child, living homeless while he avoided the Initiative patrols. Giles took his debts very seriously and it was his nana and the former Headmaster who had recommended the man to the Watcher's Council. Riley did not know what debt he owed his mother.

Not that Riley hadn't been relieved to learn there were wizards in Sunnydale beyond the Initiative. Living in the Muggle world had been quite the culture shock and he'd regaled Angel with a few stories of acclimating to Lowell House and its Muggle amenities while they waited for Madame Pomfrey's permission for him to move. Angel had similar experiences though his derived from pure stubbornness on his part to adapt to the modern world. The vampire genuinely abhorred the microwave, especially since it did something to the flavor and texture of his meals. He'd also missed most of the technological revolution of the last century living on the streets, and without Auror survivor training. Riley almost told him how he'd managed for those short weeks in demon infested Sunnydale, but held his tongue at the last moment. He'd not had such an easy conversation with anyone in too long, but there were secrets he was forbidden to speak of to Muggles, vampire or no.

He also didn't want to risk the man's reaction and he certainly did not think on what that implied. Or how he was actually enjoying this time with Angel. The man had a surprisingly sarcastic dry sense of humor, sharing his own experiences with one of Riley's favorite Muggle entertainments, movies.

When he scraped his plate clean it vanished the same way it had arrived, the house elves obviously reluctant to reveal themselves to a Dark Creature. It felt like the wrong side of morning, making him yawn and rub at tired eyes. It had to be close to three a.m. for them, but he couldn't sleep. They needed to break this enchantment, and Riley yawned again, wrinkling his nose in annoyance. Hadn't he just slept? Maybe Madame Pomfrey would give him some Pepper-Up potion.

Fingers touched his cheek and Riley blinked open his eyes to see Angel smiling at him. "Sorry. Just a little tired," he whispered, fighting back another yawn. "I'll ask the nurse for a po, um, a concoction to wake me up. It's like super caffeine and then we can figure out what-"

Angel's mouth stopped the mumble of words. The man really could kiss and Riley was too tired to think of all the reasons he shouldn't be enjoying his skill. They needed to kiss, didn't they? Angel certainly needed to do that thing with his tongue again, oh yes, like that, and Riley wished his own tongue didn't feel like a lump in his mouth, but he really couldn't keep his eyes open. He managed to lift a deadening hand to clutch at the man's shirt, but could not win the fight to stay awake. Why was he so awfully tired?

"Shh, go to sleep, it's alright," Angel soothed, gently settling the young man back among his pillows. It tugged on his conscience, kissing the boy like that without invitation, but he really had been too cute to resist, rubbing his eyes and yawning like a little boy.

Something must have shown on his face because Riley frowned at him even as his eyelids lost their battle. "Hey, it's okay. Wizards aren't like that."

"Like what? Riley?" But his beloved was out, breathing softly through his mouth.

"Wizards don't have the same gender hang-ups that Muggles do," Giles answered from the doorway. "Male wizards can get pregnant just as easily as females thanks to their innate magic, sometimes without any help from potions or spells, just as the female wizards can, so homophobia is a purely Muggle convention. Wizards like who they like."

Hunh. That was interesting to know and Angel thought about just what all he didn't know about his beloved as Giles came closer. The man leaned over, touching Riley's head and though the vampire couldn't see it he swore the man made a sniffing noise. "It doesn't really exist for vampires either, but that's why I thought he was so reluctant." Angel said, hoping to draw more secrets out of the man.

Giles straightened up to fix the vampire with a censoring expression. "His reluctance might have had something to do with being in a relationship with a young woman who you have professed to be your true love on several occasions. Your gender might not be an issue but willing consent to being mauled likely is." Angel had the grace to blush, silently acknowledging the man's points. "Love spells are also a very serious matter in Wizard society. You could bring him up on charges for taking advantage of you if he manipulated the situation to his favor."

"But I've been assaulting him!" Angel protested.

"I'm sure that would be taken into consideration," Giles patiently explained, "but you are an enchanted Muggle and he is a fully trained wizard. Wizard society takes a very hard line with these things. You may be besotted now, but what will your reaction be when the spell is broken? Remember, Riley doesn't really know you."

Just as he really didn't know the blond wizard Angel was reminded. "Are the girls asleep then?"

"Yes," Giles nodded. "They've all had a long day. I promised them I would wake them for lunch and then we could start research in the library." He pulled a dark colored little bottle from his pocket. "Professor Snape says this should help you control your urges though he still believes the spell will only end with consummation. With this you will at least be able to leave Mister Finn's side."

Trusting the man at his word Angel downed the bottle in one shuddering gulp, the sourness of the slimy concoction fair curling his toes. "Thanks," he gasped. The taste passed quickly at least and Angel handed back the empty bottle. "Then why don't I head down to this library now? If it is allowed, of course." And maybe at the library he could find a way to close the gap between himself and Riley.

ARARARAR

Shuffling tiredly up Giles' walkway Xander quietly prayed for a demon free night. The lumber shipment hadn't come in, half his subcontracted electricians hadn't shown and a union rep had made a nuisance of himself all day. Being site supervisor was definitely losing its shine. Add to that coming home to a lover who'd been downright cavorting in secret malicious glee for the past week and Xander was ready to kill for a quiet night.

Knowing Spike was neck deep into some diabolical plot sure to rival the mad scheming of a Disney villain should have possibly provoked a more heated response than "Stop cackling and drink you dinner" but, well, it was Spike. It had taken him a couple of months, a case of JD and Willow's Psychology 101 text but Xander did not think Spike was capable of true evil. Mischief and mayhem, yes. Descend the world into Hell a la Angelus, no. Not so much Big Bad as Wee Bad. He had also learned that regular, fuck him unconscious sex also kept Spike out of trouble. Unfortunately, he was possessed of mere mortal stamina and his undead fuck bunny was not. Xander well knew Spike had instigated some plan of mischief. He even knew the day it hatched. Last Tuesday, when he'd pulled a double shift and forgot to shackle his little fiend to the bed after a no sex night.

Whatever he'd done, it was all Xander's fault. Fallout was likely imminent. It didn't usually take too long these days to witness the fruits of Spike's mischief. Blondie was not the most patient of naughty vampires on his good days. That, and Spike was skipping down the walk, swinging Xander's hand and whistling a vaguely familiar tune the brunette was too tired to place.

It's going to be bad, whatever he's done, Xander thought as he gave a perfunctory knock at the door before shoving it open. The perfect end to this day would be if Willow neglected to order any meat toppings. Please, no veggies lover.

The brilliant flash of light that burst through Giles' foyer proved him right. Xander gasped to feel his body go rigid, literally frozen in place with one foot through the door. Still holding Spike's hand the brunette Scooby stared dumbfounded at the two guys blocking Giles' entryway, pointing sticks at them. Was Spike frozen next to him? The strangers were both dressed in jeans and t-shirts with leather jackets but something smacked of alien about them. Maybe it was the hair: who had hair those shades of red or blond, though that might be blamed on the sparkles still dancing in his vision. What the hell did they want? And where was Buffy when you needed her to do her hero thing?

"Stupefy!" The strong voice came from behind the redhead, heralding a flare of light that struck the guy's back and sent him to the floor. Wesley appeared over the body, pointing his own stick at the blond who dodged a second whatever 'stupefy' was. A frozen spectator to one of the oddest battles he'd ever witnessed Xander's eyes rolled in his head trying to keep up with the two hurling bursts of light at each other. The electrical discharge was starting to make Xander's hair stand on end. The long haired blond was fast, dodging whatever Wesley threw at him or deflecting them with some kind of wicked cool force field. Wesley was almost as good, but one of the blond's spells cut a nasty slash across the Englishman's hip, blood splattering the paisley wallpaper behind him.

Wesley dropped to one knee, but it wasn't in defeat. His stick vanished in an impressive slight of hand, replaced with a very sharp looking knife he held to Red's throat. Blondie froze, face darkening as he slowly lowered his stick.

"We were sent here to help your friends," Blondie spat. Cold grey eyes glanced to the space to Xander's left, to Spike he realized. "So it wasn't the vampire after all that used the cursed mirror."

"Oh, he is the one, but Angel wasn't his only victim," Wesley smiled and it wasn't a pleasant expression. "Now bring them into the living room. And Slytherin? I will be watching for anything sneaky."

Who named their kid 'Slytherin', Xander absently wondered. A confusion of emotions flashed across the blond's face before he slowly lifted his arm, stick pointed straight at Xander though his eyes never left Wesley's.

Spike was so going to get spanked for this one.

ARARARAR

Harry had hardly left the guest suite they were housing the Americans in when the door creaked open behind him. "Professor, Harry?"

The blond Slayer quickly caught up to him, flashing a smile he was certain she'd practiced on countless unsuspecting teenage boys. Well used to the ploys of the fairer sex Harry smiled in turn, the twist of his lips genial and coolly professional. Considering what they'd been told of their guests he suspected what favor the girl hoped to charm from him and thought to end the battle of guile before it began. "Miss Summers, I know we haven't let you yet see your friend, but that is for your own safety."

She blinked for a moment, his words obviously unsuspected. "Riley? It's just a love spell, right?" Her hand waved the air. "Angel won't hurt him, he's a Champion, so Riley should be safe so long as it's just Angel. My friend Xander was under a love spell that sicced every woman in Sunnydale after him. Now that got nasty." She delicately shuddered.

Well, she certainly had a high opinion of a Dark Creature that as Harry understood she was pledged to combat and filed that oddity away for later contemplation. "Riley is fine, yes. So what did you want to speak to me about?"

Buffy glanced back at the door to their rooms before looking him square in the eye. "My friend, Willow. I listened to what you all said earlier, and it's stupid. Willow, she's good at her magic and she's getting stronger."

Well, apparently she didn't listen too well, but Harry kept his irritation from his voice. "I'm sure she's very accomplished, Miss Summers, but that does not change the nature of her magic. Here at Hogwarts we only take in those with innate ability."

"Then you're stupid. When I tell you Willow's strong I don't mean that as a good thing, I mean it as a 'I fight Big Bad Evil every day and she scares me' thing. I'm not one of these Muffles you were all talking about." She was suddenly in his face, faster than anyone Harry had ever seen move, her small delicate hand crushing the front of his robes and lifting him off his feet like she was admiring a kitten. "Is this innate enough for you? I'm the Slayer. Maybe you don't teach your special kids about me, but I was born to kill bad things. Willow started learning magic to help me and now she's on the path to becoming one of the bad things I kill. If you're willing to help Angel and Riley then why not her?"

McGonagall had briefly explained that Giles, his father's old friend Lupin, was the teacher of a demon hunter, but she hadn't made mention of the superhuman strength. Dangling a good couple of feet off the ground Harry nodded, conceding the girl had a valid point. If the redheaded girl was dabbling into the Dark Arts then it wouldn't matter how she came by her magic. "I believe you, Miss Summers, and I promise to speak to Mister Giles about her training."

The petite blonde nodded and gently returned his feet to earth. "Thank you." She didn't apologize for her actions and Harry decided to let it go.

"The Headmistress had told us you hunted Dark Creatures, but she did not say anything about exceptional strength," Harry commented.

"'Into every generation, yadda, yadda, a Slayer is born'." She smiled grimly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn't ask to be special, trust me, but everyone tells me it's my destiny."

Now that sounded familiar and Harry grimaced. "I sympathize. An evil Dark Lord killed my parents and I didn't find out until I was eleven that is was my destiny to defeat him. It's not easy having everyone counting on you to save the world when all you want to be is normal."

"No, it's not. It sucks sometimes, but I've met other Slayers and none of them did as good a job." She stared at him, head cocked to the side. "So did you fulfill your destiny or is this teacher gig a secret disguise?"

Harry chuckled. "Oh, I did my hero duty and have the scars and nightmares to prove it. When I was in school I never considered coming back here to teach, but it's important that the next generation recognize the Dark Arts for what they are and not be afraid to fight for themselves." There was more he could have said, but Harry left it at that. Perhaps respecting that sense of camaraderie Buffy nodded and quietly went back to her friends, leaving Harry to consider if he still had time before his first class to grab a muffin for breakfast. He had been putting off speaking to Rupert Giles, not sure what he wanted to say to the man who could have been so much more to him in another life, but if the man was unknowingly harboring a future Dark Lord than he needed to confront his father's old friend.

TBC.


	6. Chapter 6

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 6.

Though it was late morning outside Angel had the singular pleasure of being the only one of his party awake. The girls has been housed in a dormitory styled room similar to how the students of the school were arranged. Giles had escorted him to the library and given brief introduction to the librarian before vanishing with his shadow. Considering how the two smelled they might not have disappeared to sleep, but Angel only smirked. Riley was asleep in the infirmary, safe behind locked door. Left to his own devices Angel turned his most charming smile on the scowling Madame Pince and asked after the American wizard schools.

There were three. Riley has attended the oldest, the northeastern Salem Institute. The yearbook Pince provided contained every graduating class, summoned to the pages by speaking the year. It took Angel two guesses before he got the right one, smiling at the slender teenager grinning up at him. There were other pictures under the boy's name and a list of his achievements, rising and fading one after the other. Besides the formal photograph there was one of Riley playing some game while flying on a broom; walking with some fellow students looking all of twelve and earnestly adorable; and finally one of him running through the rain across a stone courtyard towards the photographer, all long limbs and thundering grace.

Angel was fascinated by the moving pictures, but finally put his finger on the neatly written list chronicling Riley's life up until this very day with the dry words, 'Bonded to Dark Creature by Unknown Curse'. He swallowed down his instinctive offense and then familiar guilt at the 'dark creature' bit, re-focusing on the boy's earlier life. The blond's school marks made no sense, but apparently he had a Masters in Transfiguration. There was something else written beneath that but it'd been smudged out and had the word 'classified' stamped over it. Everything in this book brought home to him how little any of them knew of Riley's true life. The boy had only been an Auror for two years, the Initiative division. Just what was going on with the Initiative if it was being run by these wizards? Giles probably knew more than he let on, and Angel wasn't going to abide all these lies for much longer.

Carefully he closed the book and made his way back to the librarian's desk. He needed to find out what Transfiguration meant.

ARARARAR

Seated gingerly behind his desk Severus frowned at the man casually snooping about his things. The wolf may have been permanently muzzled but it obviously still influenced Giles' behavior. No surprise, considering he'd lived longer with the wolf than without. Some things would probably never leave him. Such as the innate curiosity and the heightened sense of smell. The temper that was slow to ignite but burned hotly when finally sparked. His posterior could certainly speak to that. "You're certain you smelled Dreamless Sleep?"

"Yes," Giles answered simply, running his strong, fine hands over the cover of the Second Year's Potions text. When Severus only deigned to arch a brow in response he sighed. "I doubt the boy doused himself and Poppy had no cause to."

"We both know who did it and why," the Slytherin snapped. "Are you actually going to subject me to the torturous drama of spelling it out?"

A cloth appeared from Giles' pocket and to Severus' amazement he began to rigorously polish his useless spectacles. This was a new affectation to go with his new appearance Severus supposed, but he scowled at how annoyingly . . . endearing it was. "If you do not wish to discuss this, fine. Where do you keep your Pepper Up?" Severus made no move to get up, far too amused at Giles' flustering. "Minerva has no right, Severus, and you know it."

Severus went to lean back in his seat but thought better of it when his lower back twinged. "Please. Unless the boy's father claimed him you damn well know Wizarding Law permits Minerva to do whatever she pleases as head of her family. Or did Turan marry an American wizard who accepted having a bastard in the family?" Giles' mouth tightened and Severus sourly nodded. Until a wizard married the law made them the property of their parents and some courts did not even recognize Muggle marriages. If Voldemort had ever done him any favors it was killing his father and freeing him of the man's tyranny. As a bastard Riley belonged to his mother's family unless his father stepped forward, his stepfather adopted him, or he married out of his family. Severus wished the boy luck in finding a wizard who'd forgive the taint of being bound to a Dark Creature.

No matter his change in name and appearance Remus Lupin, now Rupert Giles, was at heart a Gryffindor, obstinate and noble hearted. "I brought Riley here defenseless in good faith. I will not leave him here the same. Minerva's not thinking with her head, but her wounded heart. As her friends we need to stop her from doing something she'll regret."

Sanctimonious drivel, but with a heaving of breath and an evil glare Severus went to retrieve the Pepper Up. The kiss he received in reward almost made the grievance worthwhile.

The blowjob chased every complaint away. Perhaps this time around he'd make certain Giles was confident of his welcome.

ARARARAR

Most wizard folk looked no different from Muggles. It was the distinction of those pure blood families that could not only hold themselves apart from non-magical humans but plebian, ordinary wizards as well that gave the true clarity to their legacies. Their magic rested not only on the contribution of some distant mythical creature but the very power imbued in the legacy of their name. They stood apart for the simple fact that those who could lay claim to a pure blood family name could call on powers greater than their own. When a pure blooded wizard passed his power did not pass with him but instead went to his heirs. Each successive pure generation added to that power and that power stamped them in turn.

That power did the same to pure blooded wizards who married into those ancient family names. Narcissa Black had been such a witch. When she had attended Hogwarts she had looked much like her sisters with their raven dark hair and languid grace, legacy of the Black name. Marrying Lucius and accepting his family legacy had sundered onto her more than just a husband. In becoming a Malfoy she had set aside all that made her a Black.

Sweeping through the doors in a swirl of platinum and silver Narcissa Malfoy coldly swept her black eyes over the insignificant students who scurried out of her way. Even those Muggle born who had no inkling to who she was shrank back before the invisible unfurling of her power, the most primitive parts of their brains where their magic dwelled screaming out in a confusion of desire and fear that left them quaking. Those pure blood children that felt her touch instinctively reacted in kind, calling on their ancestral legacies. The air fair crackled with energy, violence so very imminent with so many untrained wizards fearfully milling about.

Narcissa smiled to see a furious Headmistress appear. By whatever trickery Minerva had hidden the boy from them her ruse was foiled now. The boy's magic called to her with all the allurement of a siren's song, piercing through the swamping waves of magic that filled Hogwarts and striking her to the core. Genuine fear briefly shone in Minerva's eyes and Narcissa's smile turned decidedly wicked. The Malfoys had come to Hogwarts for one of their own and she would not deny them.

ARARARAR

Angel truly couldn't recollect leaving the library or making his way back to the infirmary. One moment he was leafing through a tomb older than Moses and in the next he was watching Giles feed Riley another potion. "What are you giving him?" he asked, resolutely suspicious of anything that went on in this castle. Had his own cocktail worn off or had a deeper instinct drawn him back to protect his mate?

If Giles was doing anything nefarious he masked his guilt well, calmly laying Riley's head back before pocketing the now empty vial. "It's called Pepper Up. A single dose won't hurt him and sooner this nonsense is resolved the better. He should start coming around in a few minutes."

An awake Riley was more entertaining than a sleeping one so Angel nodded, coming up to the other side of the bed from the Watcher. "Is this the school you attended, Giles?" He already suspected the answer given how that harridan of a Headmistress and the other teachers acted with him, but he wanted to hear Giles speak lie or truth.

"Yes. I went by a different name, obviously, but then, I was a different person back then." The man laughed softly and it sounded wholly self-mocking to Angel's ears. "A very different person."

Before Angel could ask anything else Professor Snape appeared in the doorway. The thin man did not even glance in Angel's direction, his sour expression for Giles alone. "If you are done nurse maiding we have a lovely debacle taking form in the Great Hall. While I normally wouldn't care if you are to blame far be it I not allow you to contribute to the farce."

Angel stared over at Giles, but the ex-Watcher only sighed. Resigned yet rueful blue eyes finally darted his way. "Once Riley wakes take him down the hall. The Headmistress said she'd arrange a luncheon for all of us there."

"Of course," the dark vampire nodded, careful not to smile until Giles and Snape left. Beside him Riley mumbled a soft noise of complaint at the harsh slamming of the door, long fingered hand lifting to rub at his face. Was everything this man did adorable? "Hey, ready to wake up?"

"Mmm," the blond hummed, head turning to the sound of his voice. Sleep clouded hazel eyes briefly looked grey before they cleared to their usual warm green. "Hmmm, did I fall asleep?"

"Only for a little while. I went down to the library." Riley's mussed honey colored hair was too great a temptation to his fingers and fussy nature so he smoothed the spikes back into shape.

Stretching, Riley slowly sat up, for the moment ignoring the touch that gently followed, trailing down his nape and the curve of his spine to palm his lower back. "Find anything helpful?" the boy mumbled through a yawn.

"Not related to the curse, no." The young wizard was sleep warm, his delicious musk heightened by a light sweat and Angel leaned closer to breathe deeply. When Riley didn't react, obviously still more asleep than awake, the vampire gave in to boldness and rubbed his cheek against the fur soft hair. A contented purr rumbled in his chest when the blond still did not shove him away.

No, for a brief, perfect moment Riley leaned into the affection, making a sound Angel could have mistaken for an answering purr if it had come from someone else. Riley did not seem the purring type, but before Angel could decide the boy stiffened. He did not physically move a muscle, yet Angel felt his withdrawal just the same and bore the pain of rejection stoically. He would prove his love.

"Are, um, that is, is the . . . wearing off?" Riley stammered, and Angel remembered Giles had given him the potion after Riley had gone to sleep. The boy was talking, or trying to at any rate, about the cock sucking. Sweet opportunity, but sweeter still than to swallow warm seed would be to taste Riley's intoxicating blood. His first small sampling painted on firm lips he'd thought so rich because of the spell. Now he wondered. Did wizards taste different from normal mortals?

Playing into the moment Angel gleefully seized the opportunity to wrap himself about the fetching blond. "'Fraid so," he growled, nuzzling Riley's throat while he let his hands wander.

That provoked a reaction, the boy jerking hard in an aborted attempt to escape Angel's steel clutch. "Hey!" The vampire chuckled and palmed his crotch, eliciting another futile burst of wriggling. "Stop that! No blow jobs are going to happen! Angel, I mean it!"

Behind him Angel smirked, confident the boy protested more for appearance than true reluctance if his quickly swelling cock was any judge. How sweet Riley wanted to protect his virtue. "Kisses do not keep the curse checked for long," he helpfully pointed out nibbling on one fleshy lobe.

"Then something else! Oh Merlin, please stop doing that!" Riley implored, his efforts useless in stopping Angel's knuckles pressing into his denim caged crotch.

"A most wicked curse," Angel sympathized while fumbling with the stubborn button of the boy's jeans and batting away his interfering hands. "We must do something soon, before I am taken over completely. Before I ravish you right here. Bend you over this bed and shove my dick so deep inside you perfect little ass, over and over and over, fill –"

Riley shuddered, fear and arousal twined so closely in his scent Angel could barely distinguish them apart. The boy wanted this despite himself; scent did not lie. Angel would have loved to reassure him that he wasn't going to beat him to a pulp once the spell ended, that he would never regret shagging such a delectable ass, but he knew Riley wouldn't believe him. Boy had no cause to trust him, but he would.

"Blood!" Riley screamed.

Angel froze. His hand between the boy's legs kept them open despite the blond's efforts to close them; his other hand had pinched Riley's wrists against his chest, inhuman strength easily overcoming any struggle. A few more minutes and he truly could have lost himself in the haze of his lust. "What?"

"Blood. We can exchange blood," the blond panted. "Blood is good, right?"

Oh yes, blood will most certainly do, sweet prince, but not for long. I will be fucking you, hard and soon, but Angel kept those promises behind his teeth. Riley already sounded panicked. No need to push him into running to his grandmother, not when Angel was so close to earning his confidence. Angel had a firm suspicion that once McGonagall had Riley in her clutches she'd not let go for anything. "I suppose blood could work, but, my lovely one, it can be dangerous. Sharing blood with a vampire can forge unbreakable bonds."

Yes, let it be your decision. Riley chewed his bottom lip, already reddened and swollen from when he had bitten it through last night. "We could always jerk off into cups?" Angel helpfully suggested, nudging that mental image into the boy's mind.

Riley grimaced. "No. We're already bonded. What's a little more to this? We'll exchange blood. Just a little, though."

Crowing silently in triumph Angel eased around to face the wild-eyed blond, smiling reassurance and soothingly rubbing his reddened wrists. Seeing the obvious evidence of restraint made him internally wince; he hadn't meant to hurt his love. "Whatever you want, Riley. I heal quickly so you can take from my wrist, but what about you?"

Looking up at him through his lashes Riley eyed him suspiciously before he went back to staring at Angel's large hands cupping his own. The gears were turning in that witchy little head, but hesitantly the boy nodded. "I can use an illusion charm to hide anything."

"Alright then." Keeping hold of Riley's one hand Angel brought his own wrist up to his mouth, slowly and deliberately shifting into gameface. Wide hazel eyes watched his every move, muscles tensed. There was no fear at seeing his demon visage, but then Riley had been living on the Hellmouth for months. Angel bit cleanly into the inside of his wrist and then held it out for Riley to take.

A final look but Riley took his hand in his own warm one. Uncertainty over how to go about things made him again hesitate, but then his tongue darted out, lapping up the blood trickling down Angel's forearm. Vampiric blood was instantly addictive and Angel smiled when Riley latched onto his wrist, sucking hard, eyes glazing over before they fell closed. Angel's fangs sinking into his own wrist barely roused a whimper of complaint.

Bliss exploded on Angel's tongue. Slayer's blood was rich and earthy, like eating steak raw if normal was well done fare, all the vitality seared out. Riley's blood did not compare. It was like swallowing lightning. Electricity singed Angel's taste buds the flavor was so sharp, the lingering aftertaste of delicate sweetness soothing raw nerve endings. His stomach clenched painfully when the ambrosia hit, and then a second wave of pain swept through. Craving. Fangs sank deeper into vulnerable flesh.

A small mewl of distress broke Angel free from his bloodlust. Riley was desperately clutching at his arm, blood smearing his face, but Angel could feel the mad hammering of his heart through the veins he'd torn open in his frenzy. Any more and the boy's heart would start to stutter. Angel was grateful for the curse then, knowing it was by its strength that he stopped feeding. Licking at the torn flesh until the healing properties in his salvia started to work Angel carefully cleaned away every last drop.

Only by vampiric strength did he free his own arm. Holding the blond still with a firm hold of his jaw Angel drew him closer, bathing his face with long swipes of his tongue. Riley squirmed, eyes still unfocused, licking away the remains of Angel's blood from his lips before the vampire could take that last taste. Angel chased his tongue back inside, plunging into a hard, probing kiss that Riley instinctively committed to. Tasting his own blood in every nook of Riley's mouth sent a bolt of desire straight to Angel's cock. Not since Angelus had he enjoyed his own flavor in another's warm mouth. A heady aphrodisiac and he leaned closer, determined to draw every moan he could out of Riley's heaving chest.

A voice shouting behind him heralded the sudden rush of darkness that toppled him from paradise into oblivion.

ARAR

Riley grunted to suddenly have Angel's considerable weight slumping into him and he struggled to push the vampire to the side. The blood pounding in his ears had drowned out any other noises and he gasped for air, struggling to get control of himself. It was hard to focus his eyes on the man sprawled across his lap but when he lifted his head he could see a blurry shape coming into the room. They were being attacked!

Before Riley could withdraw his wand, reflexes considerably slowed, thick green ribbons of silk tightly bound his arms to his sides and yanked him from the bed. Landing painfully on his knees Riley started to topple forward but a hard yank on the lead kept him upright. Behind him Riley heard the thud of Angel's limp body striking the floor, but his attention was caught by the man staring down at him. Shaking the spots from his vision Riley glared up at his captor.

The robes were expensive and finely tailored to a man as tall as Riley, if not an inch or two more. He held himself with the same aristocratic bearing his grandmother did, as rigidly straight as the snake headed cane the ribbon roped from. Broad shoulders, pale complexion complimenting silvery grey eyes. Riley assessed their attacker in seconds looking for any weaknesses, but his mind stilled its frantic clamoring at seeing the long blond hair. Who was this man?

For his part the older wizard seemed fixated on Riley's face, his stare so intent Riley struggled not to look away. To defiantly raise his chin and glare back. A barely audible word and the older wizard left his cane suspended in mid-air to hold the tension on Riley's bindings. "The son of Turan," he murmured, long fingered hand reaching out to gently stroke Riley's jaw. When Riley tried to jerk away those fingers became hard, gripping his jaw painfully to keep him in place.

"Riley Finn," he growled. "And you are, sir?"

But the man only smiled grimly, ghosting his touch over Riley's cheeks and nose. "You have your mother's look about you." Fingers lightly touched his hair and Riley did not mistake the look of displeasure that briefly rose through the man's otherwise inscrutable mask.

When the man uttered "Finite Incanteum," Riley knew what would happen even though he could not see it. Fingers carded through his suddenly longer, paler hair, hair that matched his attacker's in shade though it only fell to his ears. Given a day it would easily reach his back unless he cut it back. 'Head like a weed.' The charms his mother had placed on him for as long as he could remember fell away and the older wizard looked immensely satisfied. "Clever Turan. I assume she uses magicked scissors to keep it shorn?"

"Who are you? How do you know my mom?" Finally Riley managed to wrench his head free, but the damage had been done. He wasn't skilled enough in charms to magick all the hair on his body a darker shade and Mom had always been adamant that Nana never see his real coloring. Riley had never understood since he got his looks from her; just another one of her endless rules she'd forced on her only kid. This guy looked like them, though. Was he an uncle? Mom had always said Nana was their only family left.

"There is nothing to fear, . . . Riley. We are going to have a long talk after I dispose of this inconvenient complication." Stepping past Riley's kneeling figure the man reached into his robes to pull forth a long polished stake.

"No! Don't touch him!" Riley honestly didn't know how he felt about the charming vampire, but he absolutely did not want him dead. Angel was the first person in too long that Riley didn't have to pretend with and he didn't want to lose his friendship. Or their potential to be something more.

Angel was slumped on one side, curled towards Riley, but the older wizard's booted foot knocked him onto his back. "That is the curse speaking. You will be of a different mind in a few seconds."

Bound, with no way to get to his wand, Riley did the only thing he could think of.

TBC.


	7. Chapter 7

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 7.

Lucius dropped to one knee next to the vampire, decided he would deliver his son's freedom with his own hand. The boy was the image of his beautiful mother, but with the legacy hair and eyes of a Malfoy, making for an exotic blend of golden skin and platinum coloring. What had Turan been thinking, to hide his eldest son from him? More than illusion charms had been tightly woven over Riley; he'd walked past the door to his room four times without seeing it and likely would never have if he hadn't heard the moaning. It infuriated him that Turan had so little trust in him that she'd concealed their child, but she'd always had that Gryffindor stubbornness.

The Dark Creature was stunning, but Lucius was unfazed by its beauty. It would hardly do to add vampirism to the bloodlines. Lifting up the stake he paused at the startling movement from the corner of his eye: the silken ropes he'd used to tie his son with slumping empty to the floor. Decades lived as a Death Eater dropped his wand into his hand, but he still almost missed his target when it suddenly dashed for the door.

"Stupefy!" The curse just caught the boy in the back leg and Lucius quickly strode to his fallen form, vampire forgotten. "Well now, aren't you a surprise," the tall blond murmured, sheathing his wand so he could gently gather up his unconscious son. Perhaps not a surprise, given who his grandmother was, but it took a powerful wizard to become an animagi and to possess the same form as McGonagall? No wonder the old harridan wanted to keep the boy in her family.

Lucius remembered McGonagall's cat form from his own school days as a rather unremarkable tabby. His son was anything but and the wizard indulged in petting the luxuriant white coat that shone silver. A lanky, long haired breed that he did not recognize but beautiful regardless. Narcissa was going to be tickled. Seizing the feline's scruff he tucked him into his robes, Dark Creature forgotten as he hurried to quit Hogwarts before anyone discovered Riley missing.

ARARARAR

Sitting in Giles' favorite old armchair Xander subtly tested the ropes wrapping him tightly from his shoulders to his waist but whatever spell Blondie had used obviously knew how to tie itself. Spike was similarly tied and gagged on the couch across from him. Wesley wasn't taking any chances with their guests and had cast the same spell at Blondie after he'd done all the heavy lifting. Finally Wes had brought Red in, still unconscious, and dumped him on top of Blondie on the loveseat.

Presently Wes was feeling up Red, hands up under his clothes obviously in search of something. Xander doubted it was a roll of Lifesavers he was after, but he didn't think Blondie would believe that before he blew a gasket. Cursing in his pretty British accent Blondie was threatening everyone from Wes' great grandmother to his tailor if he didn't get his hands off his partner. The ex-Watcher apparently had some thick wax in his ears, however, because he'd not once twitched and even Spike had raised his eyebrows at some of the epithets Blondie graphically detailed. Xander wanted to know what had happened to the shy, blushing Brit they'd tormented daily because this was obviously a pod person.

He'd tried asking Wes what was going on but the Englishman was ignoring him, too. Finally, he triumphantly held up a small bottle no bigger than Xander's pinkie finger if that. "I knew one of you had to be carrying."

"What's that?" Xander asked at the same time Blondie snapped out, "That's a controlled potion, you thrice damned, mentally deficient prat! You could go to Azkaban for using it without a Ministry writ!"

"Quiet," Wesley murmured, heading for Spike. The vampire tried to squirm away and Xander yanked furiously at his bonds. Blondie just glared.

"Wes! You don't want to hurt Spike! Come on, man, snap out of it! Wes!" The Englishman paused briefly at Xander's words, but his blank expression didn't change and he kept on, putting a knee in Spike's chest to hold him still and reaching for the gag.

"Oi, get off, ya fat git! Wh-" Spike sputtered, choking on the bottle's few ounces of fluid. Wesley smiled and settled his weight more comfortably on the vampire's stomach before smacking him, hard. "Ow!"

"Did you like that?"

"'ell, no! Are ya gone daft, bloody –"

"Shut up. I'll be asking the questions. Did you find a cursed mirror and capture Riley Finn's image in it before mailing it to Angel Investigations?"

"Yes." Spike looked startled at how quickly he answered and honestly, too, apparently. "What the 'ell did you give me, ya poncy nancy boy?"

"Truth serum. Did you also capture Xander's image?"

"Don't know, so there," Spike sneered.

Attentively listening, Xander frowned, suddenly realizing just what the two Brits were discussing. "Mirror? Spike, is he talking about the rusty old thing you had the other day? What the fuck have you done now?" he snapped, a heavy feeling of dread coming over him. Damn, he'd known whatever Spike had been up to was going to come back on them. Then Wesley's words sunk in and another thought came to him. "Did you eat my emergency chocolate?"

"Yes." Spike's eyes practically crossed in frustration. "I just played a prank on Peaches is all. Yes, I ate it all. Fuck, luv, don't ask me any damn questions!"

"You did more than that, vampire," Wesley growled. "Did Xander look into the mirror?"

"Yes, but only for a second," the vampire defended.

"Long enough. Do you want to tell Xander what you've done or shall I?"

"No. Yer sayin' Xander was caught? Who saw him? You? Get him out of yer head right now, ya prat, Xander's mine!"

"Not anymore. What exactly does the mirror do?"

Spike opened his mouth, closed it, screwed his face up and finally surrendered. "Piece of scratch said it wedded one to another. . ."

ARARARAR

Accepting Severus' hand Narcissa let him lead her to the table, her smile as sincere as his sneer. Behind them McGonagall was furiously whispering to Potter and the man who'd appeared with Severus earlier in the Great Hall. Rupert Giles, the visiting children's guardian. McGonagall had nearly caught fire when Giles suggested Narcissa join his party for lunch, but the statuesque Malfoy had immediately gleaned his reasoning. The Headmistress had as well after a dullardly delay, that Narcissa was hardly to make off with the boy in front of his friends.

No, that would be the height of rudeness. If Lucius was successful Cygnus wouldn't be appearing anyway and Narcissa wanted to meet these . . . Americans. "Narcissa," Severus said curtly, contradicting the hand gently holding her arm, "this is the current Vampire Slayer, Fluffy or something equally asinine. Amazingly she's outlived most of her predecessors. Narcissa Malfoy."

Introductions done with Severus stalked back to the still arguing teachers. Well aware her old friend never attempted any social graces without cause Narcissa turned her most charming smile on the young woman he's seated her beside at the long table. There were two more girls also at the table watching her with widened eyes, but Narcissa was long used to provoking that stupefied expression, though it was usually in men. The Slayer was staring dumbstruck at her hair, and no wonder with that ugly yellow mop flouncing atop her own. After a suitable period of worship Narcissa delicately coughed, snapping the girl out of her daze.

A sun browned hand shot towards her and Narcissa forcefully restrained herself from reeling back. "Hi! I'm Buffy Summers!" Ugh, that horrid American accent in that candied voice was excruciating, but the girl wasn't done with her offense. "These are my friends, Willow Rosenberg and Tara McClay. You have such beautiful hair, Mrs. Malfoy!"

Well, that was odd. As a Malfoy, Cygnus should have hair of the same shade. All Malfoys did as their legacy. "Thank you," the blonde Slytherin murmured, trying to remember her own days as a flirtatious teenager. "You're all from America, right? Is my color popular over there?"

Buffy nodded. "Yes, we're from California and your hair would be the rage, but I've never seen that color before!"

"It's like moonbeams!" the redhead gushed, the sweet faced girl next to her smiling and nodding.

"Yes." Narcissa's lips stretched into a thin smile. "It is. So girls," and she turned up the charm another notch. "Professor Snape tells me you are visiting to help a friend of yours?"

"Buffy's boyfriend Riley and our friend Angel were cursed," the redhead answered. Was that one Willow?

"Your boyfriend? How awful for you!" Though it made her shudder in utter revulsion she gave Buffy's hand a consoling squeeze. A hug was completely out of the question; she'd never embraced a mudblood, let alone a Muggle, and she wasn't about to start! "I hope it's not a dreadful curse." Was there any other kind?

The Slayer shrugged, surprisingly unconcerned her boyfriend was bonded to another girl. It was admittedly a leap in logic, but Narcissa was certain no Malfoy, raised away from his family or not, was calling himself 'Angel' to these Muggles. Which meant their son was courting this idiot; if he was sleeping with her then they were having serious words. That truly was the trouble with boys, Narcissa mentally sighed. So eager and stubborn to sow their seed! Just look at Draco. The boy didn't think she knew, but Narcissa was well aware of his horrid fixation on that Weasley boy.

"They have to stay together." Buffy's voice pulled Narcissa from her thoughts, sharp black eyes taking everything in about the girl. She did not look in the least upset. "Or, Angel has to stay with Riley, I'm not sure which. Riley passed out; that's why we came. Giles will figure things out. He's good for that."

"Giles?" Narcissa played dumb; no need for them to know Severus had introduced them in the hall, though if her old friend thought a simple "This mangy looking Muggle sitter is Giles" was sufficient then he was sadly mistaken. Buffy proudly pointed to the tall gentleman and Narcissa did not mistake the warm affection in her eyes. This was a person the Slayer actually cared for. "Your guardian?"

"Watcher. My Alfred buddy, but without the butlering."

Muggles did talk strangely. Before Narcissa could continue her gentle questioning McGonagall finally ended her argument and stormed over, her bosom quivering in righteous indignation. "You are not welcome here, Lady Malfoy. I am asking again that you leave before I summon Aurors to have you removed."

Bluntness. How crass. The girls were staring at the woman open-mouthed, but Narcissa was long used to such behavior, first as a Slytherin in these halls and later as a Death Eater. After Dumbledore's glorious sacrifice many of those who'd fought for the Light side found it impossible to accept their Savior had only won with the aid of traitors such as the Malfoys. Yes, she was used to such reception, but that did not mean she bent her head in acceptance.

Drawing her narrow shoulders back Narcissa smiled winsomely at the woman who had hated her with a parent's jealousy since her fourth year at Hogwarts. "Please do contact the Ministry, Minerva. I am sure they would be interested to learn how you are keeping a child from his parents."

"You are not his parents!" McGonagall screeched.

Severus frowned, but Giles preempted him. "Ladies, just who are we speaking of?"

As if they did not have their suspicions, but Narcissa was no more inclined than McGonagall to spill their sordid secrets. Not so long as the boy lay unclaimed between them. Perhaps more than any others, pure bloods coveted their heirs and the legacy they promised. McGonagall's threats were empty; the law favored the father and the old woman well knew it.

Narcissa bristled at the denial nonetheless, tenuously keeping hold of herself when all she wanted to do was leap across the table and unleash over twenty years of pent up anguish on the woman she held personally responsible. In all likelihood she would have but for the brief surge of warmth from her wedding band. Lucius had succeeded in contacting their son.

"I will not sit here and argue with you like a common witch," Narcissa declared with frosty dignity, standing. "We know the boy exists. You will be hearing from our barrister." Before anyone could stop her she swept from the room, no hint of gleeful triumph marring her regal visage all the way to the gates of Hogwarts. From there she apparated away, casting one last victorious smirk over her shoulder before she vanished from sight.

ARARARAR

"I don't trust that woman," Harry muttered.

"And you have good cause," McGonagall agreed. "I don't care if they landed on the winning side, Malfoys are a poisonous breed." She glanced around the room, her own words raising a horrible suspicion. "Where is Cygnus and that Dark Creature?"

Still sitting at the table with her salad Buffy turned to Willow and mouthed, "Who's Signas?" Willow helplessly shrugged.

Giles dug out his handkerchief but Severus stopped him reaching for his glasses, knuckles white around his wrist. "Do not." He turned back to Minerva. "The vampire was with his bonded in the infirmary not twenty minutes past."

"You left Cygnus alone with a Dark Creature, doused –" She caught her tongue, but by their eyes she could tell the two already knew she'd drugged her grandson. "We must check in with the infirmary at once."

"You think Narcissa was a ruse?" Harry asked.

Minerva cursed, picked up her robes and showed a surprising agility sprinting from the room. The others rushed after her, leaving three confused girls behind. Buffy blew out a breath of frustration. "Why did we come again?"

"The Headmistress must have been talking about Angel," Willow mused, stabbing green beans with her fork. "He's bonded to Riley, so wouldn't that make this Cygnus guy Riley?"

A moment of silence and then with a clatter and scraping of chairs they raced after the others.

ARARARAR

Appearing in the foyer of Malfoy Manor Narcissa absently checked her appearance in one of the many wall mirrors before heading for Lucius' study. Her husband was sipping a cognac in his favorite armchair, petting a white cat curled up in his lap as she came in. Lucius was pleased about something; she well knew that self-satisfied smirk. Narcissa ignored the cat, figuring it was a transfigured book given her beloved's penchant for soft things, and arched an inquisitive eyebrow as she paused there in the doorway.

"Well, Lucius? Did you see the boy, speak to him? What did he say about Turan? Did she tell him about us?" Narcissa had so many questions, some of them years old. To know Turan had had a son away from them stirred both excitement and anger. How could Lucius sit there so calmly when she was ready to burst?

He chuckled softly, standing up to lay the still sleeping cat on the chaise lounge. "Listen to yourself, Narcissa. I have not heard you so excited since Voldemort's return."

"That was not excitement, that was terror," the slim witch hissed, stalking her husband to the couch. Lucius tipped his head in apology, drawing his wand from its sheath. "Stop playing about with your amusements and tell me already! Tell me what Cygnus was like, Lucius!"

"Patience, my fainting flower," Lucius teased, pointing his wand at the cat. Narcissa gasped, hand flying to her mouth as what she thought no more than a throwaway book transformed into a sleeping young man. Their Cygnus. The blond Malfoy hair fanned the cushions beneath his head, lengthening as they watched. "You can ask him all the questions you like when he wakes."

"An animagi," Narcissa breathed, sitting on the edge of the lounge to stroke their son's face, smiling to see Turan so strongly in his fine crafting. "A Malfoy animagi."

"What we had once hoped for."

"At least one Black has proven the skill," Narcissa reminded her ambitious husband, though her gaze did not stray from the boy. "Though it does come easy to McGonagalls. Turan has given us a beautiful son." Yes, a very beautiful son. Her Draco possessed the slender frame of the Blacks, Cygnus the strapping leanness of the McGonagalls, and both the Malfoy height and coloring. What a stunning pair the Malfoy heirs made.

"Yet Turan did not give him to us," Lucius bitterly reminded her. His hand came down, sweeping over the mane that now spilled to the carpet, marking the truth of Cygnus' blood. "She ran from all of us and hid away."

"She had good cause, Lucius," Narcissa murmured, running her lips across Cygnus' brow, his cheeks, tasting delicately of his magic. "Turan was always the wisest of us."

"And when the Dark Lord was thought defeated? Why did she not return then?" Lucius furiously spat, tearing at the septic wounds that had never healed for either of them, that had indeed poisoned. "Why hide herself and our son for all these years?"

"Only she can answer those questions, my love," Narcissa replied, fingering the Muggle shirt Cygnus wore. Such poor quality for a Malfoy to clothe himself in, but that was a simple spell to cast. "Perhaps she felt the darkness when we fell to it and feared us too greatly."

"Perhaps." Lucius did not sound convinced, however, and Narcissa frowned to think how that anger would turn when they at last had Turan with them again.

ARARARAR

They were all met just inside the infirmary by a raging vampire trying to escape the invisible force field Poppy had thrown up. Thankfully there were no other patients in her ward and Poppy had managed to catch Angel before he could make it out into the hall. The mediwitch shook her head when they burst in at her back, her wand not wavering an inch. "I closed my office door for a few minutes to fire call St. Mungo's when I heard Mr. Angel start up a ruckus about young Mr. Finn up and vanishing!"

The Scoobies went to the barrier to try and calm Angel down while the professors did what they could with a near equally upset Minerva. "Maybe he's just wandering the school," Giles tried, but twin shouts of denial drowned him out.

"No, it was his thrice dammed father, I know it!" Minerva seethed, wand gripped tightly between her clenched hands. "That greedy bastard and his slut of a wife somehow found out about Cygnus and carried him off! I won't have it! They won't take another child from me!"

Angel was far less articulate, howling his rage and misery, testing his strength against Poppy's shield that vibrated under his blows but held. Watching her ex thunderstruck for several long suspended minutes Buffy finally blew out a frustrated breath. Resolutely she rolled her shoulders, hauled back and socked him one. "Snap out of it!"

Surprisingly, the tactic worked. Knocked Angel on his ass and quiet with one well aimed blow. Buffy was too angry to notice everyone else had gone equally silent at seeing the shield so casually shattered beneath her small fist. "He's my boyfriend! Mine! Do you see me screaming and tearing at my hair? No! Because it's not helping so get a grip already! And you," the Slayer spun around, finger stabbing in Minerva's direction. "Who the hell is Signal? My ordinary, NORMAL boyfriend Riley is the one missing! He's not one of you people with the stick waving and the ugly dresses!"

McGonagall drew herself up in outrage, but Giles stepped in before the vitriol unleashed. "Buffy, things are not as they seem."

"Is. Riley. One of them. Or. Not?" Buffy bit out. When Giles' reassurance was not immediately forthcoming her scowl deepened. "How?"

"The normal way I'd think," Severus sneered. "Honestly, Giles, I thought Muggles taught their spawn about the basics of reproduction."

"Riley's a wizard?" Willow squeaked. "The whole time we've known him, making with the muscley soldier he's really been a magic whiz?"

"Maybe he didn't know," Tara quietly offered.

Meanwhile Buffy had pulled out Mr. Pointy to wave in Snape's direction. "I'm willing to bet you'd turn to dust. Want to prove me wrong?"

"Buffy!" Giles admonished, not seeing Severus' pleased smirk over his shoulder. "Yes, Riley is a wizard, but that's not as important right now as finding where he is and getting him safely back. Agreed?"

"I had my back to the door," Angel shamefacedly admitted, glumly gaining his feet. "I smelled a male, human, before I was knocked out." He rubbed at his jaw but carefully avoided looking in his ex's direction. Buffy seemed frozen between shock and anger at Giles confirmation that her boyfriend had lied to her again.

"Lucius Malfoy," Minerva snarled.

"Well, you can hardly storm his house based on your charming attitude and suspicions," Severus dryly observed. "The man will have you arrested and in Azkaban before your shadow passes the front gates."

"We would have to prove Riley is indeed at Malfoy Manor," Harry agreed. "Malfoy can't hold Riley against his will and Aurors could demand a search if we had some form of evidence."

"I could try a locator spell," Willow cautiously offered when no one else was forthcoming. "It would show Riley's location on a map. Does anyone have anything of his?"

"I've never heard of such a spell," Harry smiled encouragingly, "You'll have to let us watch."

Willow blushed right to the roots of her hair. "Sure!" she chirped.

"His sweater is over here on the chair," Tara softly pointed out, gathering it up.

"That's mine, actually," Giles shook his head.

"I, ah, have his blood," Angel reluctantly admitted, shoulders hunched in anticipation of the reaction to his declaration.

He was not long to wait.

TBC.


	8. Chapter 8

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 8.

Riley slowly woke, rubbing his cheek against silken softness, mind still drifting in hazy dreams. His eyes blinked open to a swirling of color that took his brain a few sluggish minutes to make sense of, to try and place where he was and where he wasn't. The last place he remembered, the infirmary, had vanished, replaced by what looked like an opulent study done in dark polished wood, silver and shades of green. Propping up on his elbows Riley took in the fancy couch he was lying on, with the matching chairs and coffee table nearby. His clothes were different as well; gone were the jeans and t-shirt, in their place grey slacks with a green silk shirt. Hunh. He matched the décor. Which did not tell him where he was or who had taken him. He also didn't have his wand anymore.

Sitting all the way up made the weight he'd yet taken notice of swing forward, a long loosely plaited rope of platinum. Riley stared at it in horror, trembling hand reaching to touch what couldn't be real, but at the last second he couldn't do it. Instead he went to the back of his head, feeling the cold metal of a grooved clasp. Someone had undone his mother's charms. Riley had rarely seen his true image, but he knew he looked something like -

That blond man. The memories rushed back in with sudden painful clarity. Angel. That man had come into his room, broken the enchantments and been ready to kill Angel. Riley had changed into Niveus . . . and now he was here. Was Angel still among the living? Why did his gut clench at the thought he wasn't? The mere entertainment that he was willing to cheat on his girlfriend made him flush with guilt, but he couldn't deny the growing attraction he had for the dark vampire. Once the spell was broken between them he resolved to talk to Buffy. She deserved better than someone so easily tempted away, even if his temptation was now dust.

But first he needed to find out where he was. Alighting from the lounge he impatiently swept his now long hair back over his shoulder, grey eyes narrowed in search of an exit. Nothing so conventional as a door jumped out at him, but that wasn't surprising if this was a wizard's home. Any number of spells could be concealing an entryway; he just needed to find the activator.

"Oh, you're awake!" The woman stepped out of the seeming solidness of one dark paneled wall, but Riley was more startled by her appearance. She looked like his mother. Tall, with the same white blond hair, delicate porcelain features, . . . but the mouth was fuller, the nose more narrow. And his mother's eyes were hazel, not black. Still, the resemblance was uncanny. She even dressed in a style similar to his mother's, wearing an elegant, flowing dress of green. No wand or weapon in visible sight, but Riley still kept his guard up even as he drug up ingrained manners.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but where am I?" Riley warily watched her come closer, frustrated by how little her face gave away. Her smile was warm and reached her eyes, yet Riley's instincts were screaming at him to run. His usual paranoia of strangers or something else?

"There is no need to fear, Riley. You are safe here." Her smile didn't waver though it briefly grew sardonic. "I am Narcissa Malfoy and you are in my home." She seemed to sense his skittishness, stopping with the length of the chaise between them. "Why don't we sit down to tea? Nobby!"

A house elf in a neatly pressed grey pillowcase appeared at Narcissa's side, nervously bobbing its head. "Bring tea with a light repast, and inform his lordship that Riley is awake." Nobby disappeared with a soft 'pop' not having once blinked or looked away from its mistress. Narcissa turned back to Riley, inviting him to return to the lounge with a sweep of her hand. "Can you wait until Lucius and tea arrive for explanations? I promise, we will answer any questions you have."

Seeing no other choice Riley reluctantly nodded, but didn't sit back down. He was guessing Lucius was the blond man who'd attacked them in Hogwarts and Riley needed to know Angel's fate. Even a lie would be better than nothing.

Narcissa did not press him, gliding to the bookshelves that ran the length of most of the room. "I shall have to show you my garden later. The last of the summer blooms are spectacular, but then the weather was rather inclined this year. Does your mother like to garden?"

"Not particularly, no, ma'am." The pure blood families of Europe were much like Muggle European royalty: they were all related in some fashion. No pure blood dynasty wanted to risk diluting their magic so they all married back and forth, relying on the family's legacy to keep the lines cleansed. Riley didn't doubt he was watching a cousin, but he did wonder why Mom had never mentioned the Malfoys. How close of a relation were they? He'd never thought their blond hair was a legacy marker since Nana's was black.

"I am not surprised," Narcissa laughed lightly. "Turan barely passed Herbology."

"You went to school with my mother, ma'am?"

Narcissa smiled at him over one delicately curved shoulder. "Yes. We were in the same year, though from different Houses. Do you know very much about Hogwarts?"

"No, ma'am."

Plucking an overlarge slim book from its shelf Narcissa perched on the edge of the chaise lounge, her smile bittersweet when Riley cautiously stepped back. "Well, then. Your mother was a Gryffindor, the same as her mother. Lucius and I were in Slytherin. Turan was quite the firebrand in school, headstrong and terribly keen."

She did not look up at him while she spoke, smoothing her small hands over the book's embossed cover. Slowly Riley crept closer, her smooth soprano lulling his suspicions and arousing his innate curiosity. Peering over her shoulder he could see a large H on the cover of the book. "Mom doesn't talk very much about her school days."

A 'pop' heralded the return of Nobby, balancing a tray nearly as large as it holding an arrangement of tea and sandwiches. The man from before came through the same wall as Narcissa a moment later, dressed as Riley had first seen him. "Nobby, you may leave," he dismissed the house elf, leaning down to kiss Narcissa's upturned cheek. "My dear." Dark grey eyes lifted to Riley as Lucius settled himself into the chair across from Narcissa. "Riley, it is good to see you awake."

Riley didn't think about his sudden surge of anger, of the words that flew from his mouth sharp and hard. "What did you do with Angel?" There was a great wealth of fear beneath the anger and Riley couldn't really make sense of either, but he didn't fight the feelings, wherever they came from. His stomach hurt with the fear and he defensively crossed his arms.

"The vampire?" Lucius guessed, trading a glance with Narcissa who was fussing with the tea set before forging on. "I . . . apologize for earlier and assure you, I left your friend unharmed. Finding you bound to a Dark Creature I acted rashly, but out of concern." The man's poker face was as good as Narcissa's, solicitous apology a briefly worn mask before his chilled smile returned. Riley frowned. Cats were very good at reading emotions: the regret was a surface film yet the Malfoys were genuinely happy with him. They were giving him warm fuzzies and Riley hated it. What did these people want with him?

"I was just showing Riley our school book, Lucius," Narcissa purred, gesturing to the book she had set aside to play hostess. "Turan has apparently told him nothing of her youth."

Lucius picked up the book. "Well, perhaps your father doesn't desire to hear of your mother's misspent school days."

Recognizing a leading question when he heard one Riley ducked his head, licking his lips as he wondered why they wanted to know if he had a Dad. "My mother doesn't like to dwell on the past, sir."

Tipping his head in acknowledgement of Riley's obfuscation Lucius bluntly rejoined. "Is you mother married, Riley?"

Riley shook his head. "Ms. Malfoy said you would answer my questions. Like why you kidnapped me from Hogwarts and what you want from me."

Instead of immediately answering Lucius opened the yearbook and laid it out facing Riley on the coffee table. One picture immediately caught Riley's interest, cautiously drawing him around the side of the lounge. Out of the corner of his eye he noted Narcissa setting a cup close to the edge of the table, but he was more interested in the picture of three teenagers, a blond boy standing between two black haired girls. Lucius he recognized right away, but it took him longer to realize the one brunette was Narcissa and longer still to see his mother in the other girl. Riley snatched up the book, disbelieving eyes watching the two girls, one in red and gold and the other in green and silver, kissing the boy one after the other.

"I don't understand," he murmured, unaware of sitting on the edge of the chaise or of the finely boned hand fussily setting his hair to order.

"Your mother and I were the best of friends," Narcissa softly whispered in his ear, tucking back a few errant strands. "Though from rival houses we never let anything come between us. Not our families, our other friends, not even loving the same boy. Lucky for us, it turned out his heart was big enough for the both of us."

Riley jerked away, staring between them, incredulous. His strict, hard ass mother had been in a ménage a trios? "You were all three together, together as in the three of you, my mother, and, you, and, three of you?"

Everything clicked into place and Riley's head snapped around to stare at the man across from him. If he'd been Muggle born reference could have been made of exploding overhead light bulbs, but Riley was pure blood. He well knew that when a witch or wizard married into a family they took on that family's magical legacy. And his mother had apparently not been born a blonde.

"You're my father?"

The words could barely be heard falling from numb lips, but were heard just the same.

"We are all your parents, Cygnus, love. Riley," Narcissa answered, stroking his pale cheek to draw his gaze back to her. "Pure blooded children are made from more than blood and sinew, you know this. When we committed to each other we joined our magicks and Turan called on that combined magic to create you. I am not your mother in blood, but I did sacrifice in your making. You are my son."

Riley felt frozen down to his very marrow. The weight of the book, of its so simply illustrated truth, was gone. He didn't feel the fingers on his face, the lips dusting his skin with damp salt. How was he to react? The man he had wondered about all his life was feet away, watching him with eyes that had haunted him in the mirror. Never in a million years would he have accused his Mom of polygamy, yet her wife was sitting next to him! "I-" What? What did he want to say? A thousand questions clamored in his head yet he couldn't get a one out. A childhood spent alone in desperate secrecy and frustrated ignorance screamed at him, but he'd held it all down too long to let it out now. Always the good son.

"So Turan never talked of us?" Lucius quietly prompted.

"N-no, sir," Riley shakily managed. "She doesn't talk of her past, ever. Never answers –" he swallowed, "If you all loved each other, then what happened?"

Narcissa sat back, but it was Lucius who spoke first, looking like he'd desire something stronger than the Ceylon tea in his cup. "I was a misguided, stubborn fool," he said bitterly, true emotion briefly showing through. A glut of anger, regret, shame and, hardest of all, hopelessness. They were feelings Riley was all too intimate with of late himself, the Initiative rearing its poisonous head in his thoughts.

"Turan was the type to make friends with everyone," Lucius continued more calmly, once more in control of himself. "A true Gryffindor. Narcissa and I grew up in more traditional homes that prided themselves on their pedigree. After graduation I involved myself in the politics Malfoys have engaged in for generations: keeping the Wizard world free of Muggle influences."

Riley nodded. Similar debates waged in America, though on the more regional level. "We had unofficially performed a wizard marriage ceremony," Lucius went on, "wedding our magicks. Officially, I was only engaged to Narcissa, whom my family approved of, though practically everyone knew Turan was also involved. How could they not? We were all living together and the Malfoy legacy was changing them both.

"I became involved with a radical advocate for Wizard purity. Looking back now I was so very young and naïve, but I truly believed I was helping to save our very society. Do they teach about Voldemort at Salem?"

"You became a Death Eater?" His father?

The older blond did not flinch from his open shock. "Yes, I did, though the Ministry has never found concrete proof to convict me. I thought I was doing the right thing and Narcissa supported me."

"It was the first time I chose someone else over Turan," Narcissa quietly added, shredding the bread of one of the sandwiches. "That should have warned me somehow, just how wrong we were."

"Turan refused to have anything to do with the Dark Lord," Lucius said. "We fought, several times. Accusations were made, harsh words spoken. Narcissa was going with me to meetings, leaving Turan at home alone though she barely spoke to us when we were all together. Then one night we came home she was gone and later that night we felt the surge of power and pain of her breaking out of our bond. Our last words were of anger. Our last memory of our swan one of tears."

No wonder Mom never wanted to talk of her past. "Did you look for her? I mean, she had to be pregnant, right?"

Lucius shook his head. "The Dark Lord declared Turan a blood traitor. We were afraid of what would happen if we found her, but we were also hurt by her abandonment. We still believed in the righteousness of our cause then." He paused, collecting his thoughts and banishing dark memories. "The backlash in severing our bond must have conceived you. Whether deliberately done or not, only Turan knows, though magic often acts by its own design.

"Narcissa and I married a few months later. A year after we had Draco, your younger brother. By the time Draco was born we had realized the nightmare we had trapped ourselves into, but it was too late. No one left the Dark Lord's service once sworn."

Riley stared down at the picture of a far more innocent time in his parents' lives. "That kid killed him though, right?"

"Yes. Twice." Lucius' lips quirked at hearing the infamous Harry Potter dismissively referred to as "that kid". "Draco was nearly two the first time and we tried to find Turan once we thought it was safe, but her trail was cold. Minerva did not even know where she had gone, not even under Veritaserum. We hoped for one day and then we received word of you."

What they had done after remained unspoken, a heavy silence Narcissa banished kissing their son's cheek, her genuine joy at having him there hard to resist.

"So you went to school in America?" she asked.

"The Salem Institute." Riley carefully closed the book, returning it to the coffee table. Narcissa pressed a cucumber sandwich into his hand. "Ah, thank you. I apprenticed for my Masters in Transfiguration with Master Maggie Walsh of the American Aurors. She's brilliant, has Masters in practically everything. She heads a branch called the Initiative with full carte blanche."

Lucius frowned, exchanging a glance with Narcissa. "I have heard rumors of the Initiative, of their experiments in combining magic and Muggle science. They experiment on Dark Creatures, don't they?"

Even though he'd accepted his change of heart Riley still felt the rise of his old defensiveness. "America is overrun with rogue Dark Creatures and demons. None of the treaties you have here exist in the US. Master Walsh is a legend and that she accepted me as a student?" Riley took a deep breath, firmly shoving away old angers and pride. "It took me a long time to wake up to the reality of what we were doing wasn't justified or moral. I put in a transfer request to another division, but it needed her approval . . . So I left and Mr. Giles took me in."

"Well, you are Lucius' son, aren't you?" Narcissa ruefully shook her head. "Idealistic and far too clever for your own good. Draco is an Auror as well, though he is only in enforcement. A Master in Transfiguration! How proud Turan must be!"

Riley blushed and fumbled to change the subject from himself. "Is Draco here? I mean, could I meet him?"

"Draco has a flat in London," Lucius replied, standing after returning his empty cup to the server. "I will owl him to come around tomorrow. I'll also look into this Maggie Walsh and see what can be done about re-instating your position."

Scrambling to his feet Riley waved his hands, cucumber flying from his uneaten sandwich to plop on the rich carpeting. "Thank you, sir, but you don't need to do that! I got myself into this mess and I can get myself out."

"Nonsense. You are my son and it's been too long since I last stirred up some honest mischief." The older blond's smile then was pure devilment and Riley swallowed nervously. Lucius reached out, taking the measure of Riley's broad shoulder with his strong hands. "This has been a day of revelations, my son, and you'd probably like to think on them. A room has been prepared for you in the family wing. Take the opportunity to refresh yourself and then come down to dinner with any new questions you might have. We also have this curse to break, don't we?"

Riley nodded, grateful for the offered respite. In everything he had learned this day he forgot that they had never answered his earlier questions: why had they kidnapped him from Hogwarts and what exactly did they want with him?

"Yes, let me take you up," Narcissa purred, slipping her hands around his arm. "Does Turan know you are dating a Muggle? As your mère I expect better choices from you though I shudder to think of what kind of pure blood witches are to be found in the colonies!" Still chattering away she swept Riley from the room, the young man too bemused to put up any resistance.

Slowly shaking his head Xander sadly regarded his sullen lover and the Englishman straddling him. Wesley was refusing to look at him, but the youth could see the tension straining the man's stoicism. Angel had seen Riley in the mirror and Wesley had seen . . . him. Even Blondie had shut his yap to appreciate that one. Spike had gone too far this time.

"Look, I'm sorry," Xander finally said, trying to stretch in his ropes. "I'm sorry, Wes, but this just won't work. I don't have it in me to fuck two of you." Blondie opened his mouth, gave Xander a considering look and wisely shut it. "You want me to fuck you, well, you're going to have to take over for me with Spike."

"Hey!" Spike yelped, staring desperately over at his lover. "I don't want Nancy boy touching me!"

"Shut it, pumpkin," Xander snapped. "This is all your fault. Whatya say, Wes? Do Spike and I'm all yours."

And on that note: TBC.


	9. Chapter 9

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 9

They were gathered back in the suite that had all too briefly served as a dining room. The food was gone from the table, replaced by a map of the British Isles, the chairs moved to the side. With his robes gathered tightly about his thin frame Severus perched on one of the chairs closest to the door, obviously unwilling to be there but equally unwilling to leave them unsupervised. The Headmistress had been called away by an incident apparently involving forty pounds of tuna salad and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Considering how dissatisfied she'd looked as she'd left at only getting to torture him for a few seconds before Harry had yanked her wand away Angel sincerely hoped she stayed gone. Angelus would have loved 'crucio'ing people; he was still shaking off the painful muscle cramps.

"Will this be good?"

Willow accepted the handkerchief from Angel with barely an "eww", careful of where he'd soaked the silk in recently ingested blood. "Okay, yeah, this should be good."

Except it wasn't. Willow repeatedly tried the locator spell, but something was clearly rebuffing her. The map would flash white and then a duller light would ripple up from the vellum. Angel's internal sense of Riley's whereabouts pointed them west, but Willow's spell could do nothing to narrow it down. "I don't understand why this isn't working," Willow cried in frustration. Harry looked equally disappointed.

"Maybe it's this place," Buffy lamely suggested.

"More likely he is being magically hidden," Harry disagreed, scratching one ear. "If we were closer to wherever he actually is then it might work better."

"Can we do that?" Willow asked, perking up at the idea. "Angel has a general sense of direction of where to point us on the map. If we could follow somehow . . ."

"It's broad daylight outside," Severus helpfully contributed. "The vampire could point the way with his flaming body, a trail of ashes perhaps? Is there anyone here of discerning intelligence who doesn't think the boy is at Malfoy's estate?"

"Malfoy has several properties all over Europe. Should we get a warrant to search them all 'cause that would only take a few weeks to work through all the bureaucratic tape," Harry replied dryly. "You don't actually think Malfoy would have him at his main house, do you? Not even Malfoy is that arrogant."

"It's not arrogance, you nitwit, when the law is on your side."

"Point taken," Harry said.

"I'm not leaving Riley alone with whoever has him, father or not," Angel growled.

Harry smiled. "I might have an idea."

"You are all insane," Severus snarled.

"Just get on the broom, Snape," Giles lightly admonished.

"No, I think this could work," Harry said at the same time with possibly more confidence than he should have felt. "My invisibility cloak reflects light so it should in theory protect Mr. Angel."

If Angel had been possessed of his rational faculties he would have flatly refused to play guinea pig with unknown magic for people he'd barely known a day. Rational and sane could not, however, be applied to his current mental state. The siren call of his mate was drowning out all reason and doubt. While Snape continued to rail at Giles and Harry with the reluctant support of Weasley he carefully draped the yards of invisible fabric around his head and shoulders. Harry had earlier given him a heavy robe designed for riding: hooded, with slits up the sides and straps dangling from the sleeves to tightly belt them to his arms. The young man had even thought to morph his shoes into tall boots and had leant him gloves. The only skin exposed was his face. Angel was not worried about the sun. No, the most daunting prospect of Harry's plan was 'how' he intended to go about finding Riley.

They were clustered in the shadows of an arch that overshadowed the door behind them leading back into the school. The door let out onto a stone garden prohibited to the students, surrounded on all sides by windowless walls that stretched up several stories. Angel figured they were probably somewhere still in the castle proper, a private means for the teachers to come and go without alerting the students. Out there in the garden, bobbing gently by an unseen force and warmed by the sun shining down afternoon light, were several brooms. Floating waist height. Certainly he remembered the picture of Riley agilely flying one of these things, but it had inspired no compulsion to fly one himself.

Not that he technically would be. There was a wizard and a broom for each of them: all they were required to do was straddle the things and stay on. Angel's memory did not stretch back far enough to remember if he had ever played horsey with his mother's broom. The prospect now was daunting. Not even his mad Dru would voluntarily clasp a broad length of rough hewn wood between her thighs. No, stepping out into the sun was a small thing to this.

And as he hesitated what vileness was being dripped into his too trusting mate's ear? He'd heard enough spoken about these Malfoys to know he could not trust them not to turn Riley against him, against their bond. The Malfoys sounded worse than Wolfram and Hart's finest: conniving, heartless, greedy and power hungry. Never mind they were well steeped in dark magic. Angel had seen the fatherless longing in Riley's eyes and had sympathized for his abandonment. Riley wanted a father and if Lucius Malfoy was as manipulative as Angel was told then he was going to entertain Riley's every dream of a parent until the younger wizard was too deep into his clutches to escape.

"Okay, let's go," the enraged vampire spit out, stalking into the sunlight. Time to go kill daddy.

Thankfully his dramatic gesture wasn't ruined by a burst of flames. Dead silence cheered this miracle, followed by a few awkward coughs and of scrape of shoes on flagstones as the others shuffled out after him.

Buffy stopped to stare at Angel's booted feet and calves, the only parts of him visible. He twitched a fold into place and they too vanished. "This is much with the odd and creepy. How do we know you're not making faces at us or sneaking off?"

If he had been Will he likely would have been doing both, but as he was little inclined at the moment to entertain childishness on anyone's part he growled his frustration at her stalling. "Buffy, get on a broom."

The blond threw up her hands defensively. "Hey, I'm just saying! If all this is true then Riley probably left with his Dad on his own. I mean, it's his Dad, not the Big Bad of the Week."

"Oh, Lucius could hold up for longer than a week," Severus muttered, impatiently gesturing for Tara to straddle the broom he held the end of. "Staring has yet to make the seat capacity any bigger, Miss McClay, so you might as well spare us both the agony of arguing the point and get on the broom already."

"The Ministry never could prove his guilt, but everyone knows he was the right hand of He Who Shall Not Be Named," Percy added. "No one should ever trust a Malfoy except to be an evil git."

"Percy, enough," Harry warned. The redhead looked sullen, but he did as told, lips pressing together.

"Buffy, did you know Riley didn't know his Dad?" Willow asked of her friend. Percy was sitting side saddle primly on his broom, black shoes dangling, so she gamely copied his casual seat.

"No." She was riding with Giles, who looked a little dubious about his rusty broom skills. "We never really talked about his life," she bitterly continued. "Guess now we know why."

"I don't recall you were completely honest with Riley about everything you are," Giles gently chided.

"You're the one that drummed it into me that Slayerage was to be kept a secret!" Buffy protested.

"Yes," Giles calmly replied, nudging her onto the broom, "and you've only carried yours for three years. Wizard children are warned against revealing themselves to normal people from their first sparking of magic."

Willow watched Harry spiral up into the air, Angel an invisible passenger. "Hold on," Percy ordered curtly, belying the gentle, perfectly horizontal ascension as they followed after. What Giles said made sense but Willow could tell by the mulish anger still darkening Buffy's eyes as she watched them that her friend was not so easily going to set aside this betrayal.

After seeing Riley to his rooms and placing a discreet monitoring spell on his door Narcissa walked arm and arm with Lucius down into the Malfoy vaults. They made this journey by unspoken agreement though they did not do so in silence. So many plans were needed making Narcissa was almost giddy with the exciting possibilities of it all.

"It still surprises me that our son's form is the same as McGonagall's," Lucius murmured. "If asked before had I would have said it was statistically impossible."

Narcissa smiled, patting her husband's arm. "I would think much the same, if McGonagall's Animagus form was not merely coincidental."

They rounded a corner, entering the Ancestral Hall of Portraits. Stepping up to one in particular Lucius helped his wife step through the painting of Great Aunt Millicent before following after. "How so?"

"Niveus is because of my veela inheritance," Narcissa smugly answered. "Draco shares my veela powers directly because he is of my blood, but Cygnus was still influenced through my magic that went into his making. Recessive, yes, but still there."

"And veela can manifest feline traits," Lucius mused, pleased by Narcissa's explanation. "It would made sense that his veela inheritance would try to emerge somehow and Niveus hardly looks like a normal house cat."

They at last came to their destination, the vaults beneath the manor. It was down here that the Malfoy dead were interred and the family's most valued secrets kept. It was also here that the great tapestry detailing the Malfoy line was hung and it was to this millennium old tree stitched in gold they arrived at.

Every legitimate descendant's name appeared on the tapestry at birth and could only be removed by the direct action of the family's head. Spouses were added in silver as wed and burned away if divorced. Students learned to make a similar tree in school though one such as this, much like the family legacy, took on a sentience of its own. Riley might in all appearance look a Malfoy but this tree of gold thread and dragon hide would tell them if he truly belonged.

Legitimate children were added with no direction on their part. Bastard children were another matter. Their existence were not acknowledged unless done so by the ruling matriarch or patriarch. Not even the Malfoy parent could claim an illegitimate child without the head's acknowledgement. Such children's conceptions were often too steeped in scandal to claim unless there were no other viable heirs to be found. And, of course, they had to be pure blood.

From out of a pocket in her skirts Narcissa handed Lucius a silky length of hair, taken from their son while he had slept for just this use. Before the tapestry was a metal tripod stand holding a bowl carved of obsidian, filled with an oily substance that Narcissa did not care to investigate. The oil was collected from the tapestry itself and shimmered at their proximity. A flick of Lucius' wand and the oil ignited. Carefully Lucius fed in the hair, turning the flames from yellow to white, and then held his hand steady for Narcissa to quickly slice open his life line with a slash of her own wand. This truly was easier to do with two people. His blood splashed into the oil with a flaring of the flames, joining the fragrant smoke.

Though Lucius had never had cause to perform the claiming spell he knew what to do just as his ancestors before him, drawing on knowledge of his legacy. When the smoke turned gold he drew it into his wand and then aimed it at the tapestry, smoothly intoning the invocation of a siring he had before read but never said aloud. There beneath his name and the burn mark where Turan's should have been the smoke blew out, curling and twisting until it at last dissipated. At first nothing happened, but then the tapestry rippled and gold thread burst forth, quickly stitching in a new name: Cygnus Rilius. The Malfoy line had acknowledged his rightful claim.

For the last four generations only a sole male heir had been born to carry the legacy; Lucius smirked with virile pride to see two names beneath his own, sons. "There can be no doubt now: he is our son." The flames extinguished though Lucius thought with a merry cackle. Malfoys were known for their avarice.

They quickly quit the cold chamber now that their task was done, the great stone doors sealing behind them. Narcissa laughed. "McGonagall will shortly know you've claimed your sire rights." She did not sound the least worried at the prospect, nor doubting that the Headmistress would have claimed Riley for her own house. The woman had no other heirs. A father's claim, however, superseded a mother's: if Riley's name was on the McGonagall tapestry then it was now unstitched. In the centuries long battle between their houses, the Malfoys had just accomplished quite the coup.

Before Lucius could give his opinion to that happy event the wards about the manor suddenly shrieked. Someone was trying to break in.

Harry proved why he was lauded as the World's Savior, blowing open the great front doors to Malfoy Manor with an impressive display of lights and shrieking wind. He broke through the strong wards surrounding the estate like an elephant trampling a sand castle, his control of the broom never faltering. As soon as they came close enough to the ground Angel leapt free, striding for the gaping entryway with Harry at his heels and the others quickly following.

"Riley!" He called with voice and power. Through the blood they now shared he reached for the boy, determined to draw his mate to him by any means necessary.

TBC.


End file.
